Crimson Skies
by Sidernova
Summary: In the ravaged planet of Reach, UNSC Forces begin their last desperate stand.    Something I did to pass the time.
1. Acquaintances

"Any units from Dash Two-Two check in."

I keyed my internally mounted microphone and spoke, "This is Dash Two-Two-Five, checking in."

"Dash Two-Two-Eight checking in."

"Dash Two-Two Ten checking in."

"Anybody else? No? Does anybody know what happened to the others?"

"Covenant. They had Hunters. The captain's dead, the others probably are as well."

"Okay. Standby til we triangulate your position. Disco Eight-Eight-Four offline."

The Pelican pilot went off the air with a harsh squeal of static, and then all was silent expect for the wind playing eerily through the abandoned city. I pulled out my SRS99 sniper rifle and lined it down the wide road. Patrols were now exploring this city and attempting to root out any remaining UNSC forces still there in this area. I didn't know if the evacuations from other cities had made it, but at least Manassas had its citizens out in time.

In the distance, the sky flashed purple and red as the Covenant ships began to glass the surface once more. I was so distracted by the bright blue beams of light lancing across the earth that I almost missed the line of aliens prowling down the streets. They were led by a tall, hunch-backed reptilian in red armour- Elite. The huge alien turned around to the smaller, trembling creatures behind it and snarled a command. The methane-breathing Grunts silently went about the task of searching the bodies of the dead UNSC Marines scattered on the street while the Elite pulled a dead body out of a gutted Scorpion tank. Obviously they were looking for something.

Well, I wasn't going to let them have it. I snapped the customised tripod I had installed on the barrel of the rifle to a ready position and lay prone to get a steady shot. I pushed the safety lever up to the 'off' position and took aim. Through the scope, I saw the Elite make a neat incision in the driver's hand with a claw and insert two of its fingers into the dead man's arm. It fished around in there for a while and extracted a microchip- the information chip that all Marines had on their bodies to identify themselves.

I took the shot. The rifle barked dryly and a 14.5X114mm shell sped across the street, shedding its gel stabilisation coating in a visible white trail. The bullet hit the Covenant in the back of its head, shattering its spine and continuing out through its chest before hitting the asphalt and ricocheting off into the darkness. The grunts panicked and fled- probably leaving no one in the street but me. I took a sharp piece of concrete from the shattered roof of the building I sat in and made another scratch on the armour covering my left shoulder. That made it seven altogether.

I didn't notice the distortion in the air behind me until the Elite decloaked and grabbed my head. I was lifted into the air, the alien's claws closing easily around my helmet. The Elite spun me around and for the first time I could see its armour- blue. Obviously this was a rookie- going for a macho, more stylish kill. Fool. Should have taken me down with a slitting or the throat.

The reptilian animal roared in my face. I refocused my mind and remembered that Elite and human anatomy were relatively the same. I kicked the alien in the crotch, praying that the sergeant had been right. He had. The Elite howled in pain and dropped me. I rolled to my feet, dropping my rifle and pulling out my M6D from my thigh holster. The Elite looked up and lifted his armoured hand in defence as I fired shot after shot into his shields. No effect. The monster roared and slapped my sidearm aside. I winced in pain and clutched my wrist- then started in surprised as the alien charged at me.

Plasma melted into my chest plate as I rolled under, between his legs and stood up behind him. The Elite had to pause to turn around, and that bought me enough time to draw my combat knife and lunge forward. The Elite dropped its gun and drew a shining energy blade as I swung. Now this is the problem about the Covenant. They design all their weapons pretty, but in the end, it just lets them down.

I scrambled to my feet for the second time as the Elite clutched it's forehead in surprise. I had embedded my knife in his head through the gap of the twin bladed sword. Already mortally wounded, the Elite was prepared to kill me for sake of honour. Not going to happen. I head-butted him in the chest as he raised his sword and as he recoiled backwards a few steps, I kicked him again and sent in plummeting three storeys off the building.

The Covenant hit the street with a crunch and lay still. I picked up my weapons, made another scratch on my armour and went down to get my knife. "Disco Eight-Eight-Four to Dash Two-Two- Five, lucky, mate, real lucky."

A green UH-114 Falcon landed conveniently on the bodies of the dead Elites. "No, not lucky… Just skills." I answered, and boarded.

"Well, well, look who's the badass Elite-killing samurai ninja today?" rasped Dash Two-Two-Eight, more commonly referred to as Adam Morales. He was a fellow ODST in my squad, recently devastated by the appearance of Covenant Hunters and an Elite Squad. Hailing from Mars, he was of Central American origin and prided himself on his endless knowledge of demolition and formulae for maximum destruction with minimum explosives. I could see his ever present squeeze-bottle of Coke and a few scraps of paper and a grease pencil squashed in his pocket. If you could remove his helmet you would be looking into a fierce war-worn face with a rough unshaven jaw and steely grey-blue eyes, with naturally silvery hair that hung messily in tufts all over his forehead.

Dash Two-Ten was sitting against the wall of the chopper as we whizzed through the city fiddling with his M392 DMR. He was relatively new to the team- what was left of it anyway, and possessed a silent but commanding aura around him that could easily sway a commander to another decision. I wasn't really sure what he looked like- every time we landed, he would disappear into who-knows-where. At training, he'd always be in partial uniform.

What I could remember from the pictures during his transfer was a ghostly pale face with jet black hair and almost luminous green eyes, and the words 'Harris' somewhere.

The Falcon swooped past the city boundary and into the open plains of Reach. Morales removed his helmet and leaned out the open body of the helicopter and let his messy hair stream out against the roaring wind. He withdrew it quickly when a huge light beam lanced down from a Covenant cruiser and impacted on the ground with a blinding flash of light and a giant ripple of pyroclastic energy. The pilot took the Falcon higher, and pushed the throttles forward to get away from the burning plasma. Morales flashed the finger at the cruiser, then settled back in his seat. I turned my back to the destruction and looked ahead as we ballooned over a ridge to reveal a huge base filled to the brink with citizens waiting patiently to board Pelicans that would take them to an UNSC Carrier leaving the planet and travelling to the moon of Earth.

I went forward to the pilot's cockpit and asked, "Where are we going?"

"Outpost 009-02. We're getting every last citizen off this planet, so you're going to be part of the UNSC's last stand on this planet along with the SPARTAN-IIIs. You'll be leaving on the last two hundred Pelicans out of here."

We flew into red sunset, leaving behind the impending nuclear winter brought on by the plasma beams throwing ash and soot into the air. In another twenty minutes, we reached the base.

"This is Disco Eight-Eight-Four to Tower, holding in position three above base, requesting permission to land."

"This is Tower to Disco, cleared in after Prowler Flight. Head bearing three-three four and move to pad 17."

After a squadron of Sparrowhawks had landed on a nearby pad, the pilot took the Falcon in and gently nudged it to a stop on the hard black asphalt. "Alright, this is our stop, I've got another squad to pick up. Yeesh. Disco Eight-Eight-Four, requesting takeoff clearance…"

I dismounted and looked around. Waiting for us was a M381 Warthog with a Marine Driver. "Where are we going?" asked Morales as we sped through the bustling base. "Briefing. Colonel wants you in right now."

The car screeched to a halt, knocking over a stack of crates. We quickly dismounted and walked into the large building. It was inevitably a mixture of green marine metal and pig-iron grey concrete. We stashed our weapons in a provided armoury and followed a nervous looking marine to a briefing hall filled with ODSTs, pilots and Marines.

"Gentlemen, I'm Colonel Hood." said a man. "Take a seat." he motioned towards a group of chairs that sat against a rectangular table. He was around sixty and had greyish hair that was just beginning to recede from his forehead, and had stress marks all over his face. "As you know, we're getting everyone of this city as soon as we can, then using any ships left to get you out. The SPARTAN-II and IIIs will be staying here to help."

A combined whisper and shudder ran through the entire collection of soldiers. SPARTANS were among the legends of the UNSC. I had heard rumours that one of them could take out an entire Elite and Hunter Patrol on their own, and could flip over tanks with their bare armoured hands. "The entire UNSC arsenal stationed on Reach will engage the Covenant landing force on the ground, while the flagship UNSC _Trafalgar _and its fleetwill begin offensive operations against the Covenant forces currently glassing Reach.

"They will attempt to disrupt the glassing process and buy us enough time to advance back to Manassas, and from there establish a perimeter and push the Covenant front backwards. It's not going to be an easy fight, men. We've got a huge technological disadvantage, but if we hold strong, we will get those people off this planet, without getting our butts glassed in the process. Now, to battle movements…"

The Colonel drew up a decent flanking move, which trapped the Covenant in between two armoured divisions and gave us decent air and low-orbit support. "Well then, any questions?'

Someone raised his hand. "What is it, corporal?"

"Shouldn't the SPARTANS get off Reach first?"

"No. They're staying with us. After everyone is evacuated, they're going Kilo Three to launch a surprise attack maybe a few months later."

Kilo Three meant undercover in military terms. "If I may ask sir," I began. "Where exactly are they hiding?"

"CASTLE." replied the man. This Hood guy was either being a complete jerk, making a joke out of me, or he had just let us in on the biggest secret of our lives. CASTLE was rumoured to have been an underground research and experimental weapons facility which was somewhere under a classified landmark. If there was one place the Covenant couldn't find, it was there. "No more questions? Good. We deploy in three days."

That explained the increased speed and rush of the base. The man dismissed us with a wave, then immediately began arguing with someone over the intercom about Scorpion fuel supplies. We shuffled back to our dorm and basically stodged around in memory of our squad until 0020 hours. It was a family thing- whenever someone died; we would sit in our dorm doing absolutely nothing for around three hours in honour. After that, Harris went and added their names to the KIA list, confirming their dead status on the base computer.

We slept late into the next day, and received our new squad information. Dash Team was to be absorbed into SMS Skull Four 'Rodeo' Team, a group which had lost five members the day before yesterday. We dumped our gear in our new dorms and met the five squad members, nobody important yet. The rest of that day was spent emptying clips on the shooting range, hauling plastic cartons of diesel fuel for the Scorps and 'Hogs, or loading weapons into drop pods.

As we woke up aching from the exertion of yesterday, I realised this would be the first time I had participated in an operation with more than ten people. I asked Rodeo One-One, the Team captain who went by the name of John Cutter about it. Cutter was a scrawny but strong man who had a long heritage of large scale battles fought by the UNSC on Harvest and other outer colonies. He had piercing blue eyes and tousled blonde hair that refused to stay down. In the morning I would always see him frantically trying to keep it under control for parade.

"Well," he mused, "it's not that different from the operations you've been in. Strategic Military Services has lots of experience with these kind things. You basically follow me, and I follow an SMS commander. It's not that difficult." he looked around, then pointed to a young woman named Serena Grants with long blonde-brown hair that ran across her right eye polishing a handgun. "You specialise in sniper rifles, right? Stick with Skull Four-Three. She'll show you the SMS standard. In battle, you learn from this man." Cutter waved lazily at a guy sleeping on a bunk. "See that scar? He got it from single-handedly taking out two Hunters by himself." The man had a scar that started from his right cheek and snaked its way down into his shirt. "You should have seen him. Nimble as a squirrel. He ran straight up the monster's arm as it tried to swat him, then jumped around the back and killed it by empting his shotgun into its back. Naturally the other brute was pissed off, and as it tried to kill him he danced round the back, straight into the spikes. That didn't stop him, however. He picked up a plasma 'nade off the ground and stuck it right into the thing's chest. We call him Skull Four-Two. Name's Jasper Grafton."

I made metal notes of the two and spent the rest of the day rolling barrels of engine lube down a slope with Morales and Harris. The base's roads were filled to the brim with Scorpion tanks and Warthogs ready to go. Lines of weapons filled the hallways, and everyone was tense. As I went through to Cafeteria 4, I noticed that the people that were usually in the room loading machine guns weren't there. They had finished. I ate alone, and went out to the range.

Serena was there, emptying her S2 AM Rifle into a bullet riddled cut-out. "Hi." she said simply as I took aim. "Hey." I replied, firing my customized model. A neat hole appeared in the head of the figure. "Where did you get that tripod?" she asked as I manually ejected the spent casing. "And why the manual?"

"I modified a camera tripod," I replied, "and I like the manual because I can change barrels for different shells, like this." I pressed a button near the top the scope, and pulled the long barrel out. With my left hand while I was doing that, I extracted a smaller, stubby barrel and a clip of ammunition from my belt. I snapped the new barrel into place and the clip into the holder. "What's in this one?" she asked with genuine interest. "Machine gun rounds. I think I'll be using this for tomorrow." I pulled off the magnetic scope and left plain iron sights. "Don't need much aim for this one." I said, and emptied my clip, a hundred bullets, into the target. "Do you have any more?" she asked, firing a shot.

"This one. I pulled off the machine gun and pulled out a thick rod. I inserted it into the weapon and hit a button on the side. A barrel nearly a metre in length telescoped out of the rod. "This one is my favourite." I told her. I slapped a clip into place and my scope, then fired a shot. The cut-out disappeared in a puff of smoke. 30mm cannon shell, I explained. "Ah." she said, then thought for a moment. "But I don't think you can beat me."

"Pfft. A one hit kill every time and a six round magazine with a reloading rate of two seconds?" I asked.

"We shall see." she said, her one visible green eye sparkling, then got up and pressed for a competition shoot out on the computer. She hurried to her range while I pressed my eye into the scope. A countdown started, from ten, and I readied my finger on the trigger. The timer hit zero, and targets began to scroll, up down, left and right. I fired a 30mm shell straight into the ground next to a target. First point to me.

Skull Four-Three fired next as I pushed the shell out of the gun and pulled the handle as fast as I could. I fired again, hitting the target smack in the face. Add 1.5 multiplier. I pulled the handle again and fired. Multiplier now 2. Skull Four-Three fired her remaining three shots in rapid succession, and her score jumped. I managed to get another three shots off while she reloaded. My score took the lead. Then I fired my last shot and watched in horror as my shell went too high, deleting my multiplier and allowing my opponent to take the lead. I pulled the magazine from its holder and slammed a new one home. Four targets scrolled across the range. I fired one shot in the middle of them, and killed two, damaged two. The multiplier jumped to five for a double kill. Four-Three fired again, and suddenly the round ended. We reached out one minute schedule. I slung my rifle and went to look at the score. She had managed to get off all four shots while I reloaded, and thus took a running lead, only for me to make a last second clutch with my five times multiplier.

She had beaten me by a single shot. "Nice try," she said, punching me in the shoulder and strolling off. I look around at the applauding crowd, and secretly thanked that I had my helmet on and it was set to combat stance, with the visor shaded over. I ate dinner at the cafeteria with the rest of the Skull Four unit, and we all shook hands and wished each other luck. I couldn't sleep with all the machinery whining around the base.


	2. Rising Sword

The sun rose in the red morning sky over Reach, bathing the UNSC base in glorious golden light. Overhead, Sparrowhawks, Skyhawks, Hornets, AC-220 Vultures and Pelicans screamed and buzzed through the sky, while on the ground, Scorpions, Wolverines, Warthogs and Elephants lined themselves up in neat formations and trundled out to the grassy plains, the burning city and the black ash cloud visible on the horizon. I boarded Disco Four-Four-Eight, along with the members of SMS Skull Four. "Alrighty people," yelled the pilot, "let's rock and roll. Patching in a priority message from the Colonel himself."

"Soldiers of the 401st Combat Army!" bellowed Hood, "Today, you march to face an enemy more fearsome than anything we have ever seen before. He is stronger, better equipped, and heavily defended!"

"Some motivation," I muttered.

"You do not march alone! With you in spirit are the citizens of the UNSC, and accelerating to our help are the ships of the UNSC _Trafalgar _Battle Fleet! Do not let them down! Tell the Covenant that we are back from the brink, pissed as hell, and ready to chase some aliens off our lawn! 401st, Combat Army, today, we make history; we will be remembered as the ones that made a final stand against the mighty Covenant Juggernaut! Begin Operation Rising Sword, 401st, begin engagement!"

The Falcon zoomed low over the neat columns of tanks and cars as they began advancing towards the ash clouds. On-board, everybody did their personal preparations for the upcoming battle. Serena fiddled with the sights on her weapon, Cutter cracked every knuckle he had, and Harris burned a hole through the wall with his gaze. I remembered the captain's advice and looked at Grafton. He was dozing in a corner. I donned my helmet and pressed the button on the side to enter combat stance.

We had been flying for just under two minutes when the first plasma rounds arced beautifully into the sky with sharp _thump thumps_. The pilot swore audibly from the cockpit and yelled, "Gunner, get your head out of your ass and target those Wraiths!" The 50mm chaingun mounted on the nose of the helicopter chattered to life, and I swung the door-mounted machinegun around and opened fire, as did Morales on the other side.

The ground erupted in bright blue explosions and orange sparks as we droned over the Wraiths. Grafton awoke from the slumber and came over to watch with interest at my firing. When I missed one, he pulled out a standard issue fragmentation grenade and dropped it right down into the over-sized grape. The Wraith exploded in a shower of blue plasma and black smoke. Cutter grinned wryly at me as I stared at Grafton.

The pilot took the UH-144 higher to avoid small arms fire, which as now flying up around us, blue plasma rifle rounds, and the deadly pink trails of the needlers, which bounced harmlessly off the cockpit. A Falcon flying next to us took a fuel rod gun round straight in the cockpit, and virtually stopped in mid-air, then plummeted to the ground and exploded on the ice-like surface of the glassed soil. The Covenant was spread out in a semi-circle around the city, fighting on the unforgiving surface scarred by the plasma beams.

It was roughly like a part of an onion being crushed slowly. The aliens had organised themselves in layers, with the golden-brown Anti-Air Wraiths toting their huge fuel rod guns at the outermost semi-circle, then with a layer of infantry manning plasma turrets, both of which were now bypassed, and we were now in the third section, a large contingent of purple mortar Wraiths preparing to fire their plasma cannons at the approaching UNSC ground forces. "Disco One Flight to all Disco Flights, prepare for insertion!" blared the radio in our helmets.

There was a chorus of "Roger, breaking off." and the lights in the cabin changed to yellow. The pilot peeled off from the formation and swooped towards the Wraiths. "Get ready, ODSTs!" shouted Cutter, and we chambered clips. I yanked out my plastic dummy barrel that kept the innards clean and slapped in my machinegun plus ammunition. Cutter donned his helmet and snapped a magazine into his MA37 ICWS, and the rest of my team followed suit.

Morales was wielding a XBR55 Battle Rifle with wads of C7 plastic explosive all over his waist, Serena her S2 AM Sniper Rifle, Grafton a pair of M7 Submachine Guns with a M-319 Grenade Launcher strapped to his back, and Harris a M90 Mark 1 shotgun, which he pumped with a satisfying _chk-chk_. I swallowed down the lump in my throat and watched the ground get closer. The Falcon lazily buzzed in towards a grassy patch untouched by the plasma beams, and the pilot held it steady at about a metre above ground while the gunner fended off the Elites and Brutes charging at the helicopter with long sustained bursts with the chin turret.

"Dismount soldiers!" yelled the pilot, the lights turned green and out seatbelts automatically undid themselves. The eight members of Skull Four half-jumped half-fell to the ground and took up a defensive combat stance. One of the ODSTs, a man named Stanwell immediately took a charged plasma pistol to his helmet, and as he staggered back as the electronics inside shorted out, another shot caught him in his exposed neck. "Damn it!" yelled Cutter, firing his MA37 Assault Rifle.

Heading towards us were a contingent of Elites, Grunts and Jackals. Serena took one of the bird-like creatures down through the tiny peephole they had through their energy shields, but the other three adjusted their formation slightly and resumed advancing. "Is it just me," I said, "Or did the Covenant start taking lessons in Roman military tactics?" Morales lobbed one of his grenades. One of his own inventions, he had tinkered with the fuse to give it a longer time before it exploded.

The ball flew through the air and landed softly on the grass and lay there, the Covenant didn't see it until they stepped onto it. The explosive detonated, sending the three Jackals soaring gracefully into the air, causing the Elites to backpedal frantically, and the Grunts were sent into a hysterical fit. Morales picked off the small Grunts with controlled bursts with his battle rifle, while the rest of the squad sprang into action. There were three Elites, a Red, leading two Blues. Harris and I tackled the two blue ones, performing standard ODST combat moves for dealing with Elites.

We each jumped at the last second, pushed our right leg into the Elite's chest, then as the huge aliens toppled, we put our left leg firmly on their chests, leaned over and fired a brace of bullets into the Elites' heads through their mouths. Grafton engaged the final veteran Elite, firing his twin guns at the reptile, who dwarfed him. The Elite growled and swiped at him with a clawed hand while the other one reached for its energy blade.

Grafton ducked the slap, slid between the alien's legs and grabbed its hand and twisted it, breaking the three-clawed thing in seven places. The Elite howled, then snarled in rage and reached for its plasma rifle. Grafton, still behind it, kicked it so it stumbled forward and bent over. Before the alien had a chance to stand straight again, the ODST jumped lightly on top of it and dragged his combat knife along the base of its neck. Cutter looked at me, and said, "See what I mean?" The Wraiths scattered around the city in a line belched, and blue plasma orbs arced slowly into the black sky. "SMS Skull to Skull Four, do you read?" blared a voice in our internally mounted headsets.

Cutter keyed his microphone. "Go ahead, SMS. Skull Four-One here."

"This is a Level Two Directive. Rendezvous with the other ODST squads at rally point Alpha. Hold out there and await further orders."

"Roger, will comply. Skull Four-One out." Cutter cut the connection and turned to Serena. "Give me an inventory of what we have."

Serena pulled out a small touch-pad and tapped it a few times. "Let's see…" she mused as she jabbed some more. "Okay, we've got a Vulture on station ready for fire support when we need it, callsign Tear One-One, two squadrons of Skyhawks, Wolf One and Wolf Two, and a Falcon ready for dust-off when it starts to get hot, callsign Disco Seven-Two. Another squadron of Sparrowhawks should be arriving on station in about ten minutes; they're doing some air support for the main ground offensive."

"Right. Where's Rally Point Alpha?"

"It's five hundred metres east of our position. There's some Covenant infantry hanging around there, pretty strong, some Ghosts, a Wraith and two Banshees on the ground. We've got SMS Skull One in cover just behind it; they're probably waiting for some reinforcements before they attack, SMS Skull Two starting their approach now, and SMS Skull Three and Skull Five are too far away to be important right now."

"What's our ETA?"

"Based on Covenant movement, we should encounter a group of Grunts led by one Elite, and a Wraith if we take the direct route."

"Done. Let's go." We turned around and started walking. After four minutes, we ran into the Grunts and Elite, who as dispatched with ease, and the Grunts were sent packing. "Stop!" commanded Serena just before a ridge that over-looked the glassed section of Reach. "Under this ridge is Rally Point Alpha." To prove her point, the hissing sound of a plasma bomb being fired from a Wraith, then a blue pulsating ball of blue fire slowly rose out from below us into the sky towards the oncoming invasion.

"I would imagine they'd posted a guard on the ridge." I said.

"They have," said Harris, pointing to a dead Elite hidden not very well behind a bush. "SMS Skull One would have taken him out silently then gone round to wait. You can tell by the trampled grass over here."

"I get the idea." I replied firmly. We poked around the back near some dying bushes and were pulled inside by SMS Skull One. "Four?" he asked. "Yeah." replied Cutter. "There's twenty Elites in front of us, they haven't seen us yet. One of them even took a leak on my helmet. Do you know if Two's coming?"

"Two's ETA is five minutes. Can we wait that long?" asked Serena. "No. We're attacking now."

"Stop!" hissed Cutter, grabbing Skull One-One's arm as he started forward. "We've got air support. Let them take care of the vehicles, save us some lives."

"Right. What have you got?" Serena started jabbing at her contraption again, then whispered, "We've got the Vulture, the Sparrowhawks and one Skyhawk squadron. Wolf One went off with Disco Seven-Two to extract some Marines pinned down."

Cutter and Skull One-One talked for a while, then decided on Rodeo Two. Serena tapped their icon, and patched us through. "Wolf Two-One to SMS One and Four Combine, where do you want us?" drawled a definitely-American voice on the radio.

"Covenant position in front of us. We'll wait till you get here, then you can attack after we've taken care of the plasma turrets and Banshees."

"No problem-o, we'll be right on that. Hang in tight." We mooched around inside the bush watching the Wraith take pot-shots at the UNSC forces trundling across the glassed plains, until the pilot came back online. "Rodeo Two-One holding orbit at angels fifteen, ready to engage."

"Okay, Herman, use the tubes, blow that sucker on the turret to pieces. Strauss, get the sniper, take the pilots standing near the Banshees. Cutter, the rest is up to you."

"Serena, take the Grunt on the right turret. Don't shoot him, shoot that pulsating box thing next to him. Grafton, you take the two Elites talking next to their supply pods with the grenade launcher. You, stop the Wraith for the Skyhawks. Shoot it straight in the back." The people got ready. My trained hands quickly pulled my machinegun out of the body of the rifle, telescoped and slapped the 30mm anti-armour in, including ammunition and deployed the stocks in six seconds.

"SMS Skull One-Four Combine to Wolf Two, you ready?"

"Just say the word."

I centred my sights on the spinning blue core at the back of the Covenant tank. "Go." whispered Cutter. "Goodbye." I said, and fired. The Grunt and his turret went flying as the pulsing blue energy inside the clear box exploded. The Elite was gone in a puff of smoke as the rocket hit him and knocked the turret off its gravity stream, the two Elites were blown into giblets. The Wraith suddenly lost power and closed up. As the startled aliens ran around in circles, Skull One called in the Skyhawks.

"Wolf Two Flight, roger that, coming in loaded!" Four Skyhawks screamed out of the black ash cloud, engines in full reheat. The Wraith exploded in a brilliant blue and white sun as a AGM-31C Maverick II slammed into it. The jets roared overhead with a sound like tearing paper, then circled around once more and dropped into a hover as their thrust diverters channelled power downwards.

The remaining Elites were turned into mincemeat by the powerful quad-40mm cannons on either side of the Skyhawks. "Is that all?" asked the pilot.

"I think so." said Skull One-One as he emerged from the bushes. "Roger that, happy hunting. Rodeo Two Flight heading back on-station."

"SMS Command to SMS Skull One-Four Combine, respond."

"SMS Skull Four-One Combine to SMS Command reading strength eight. What do you want?"

"SMS Skull Two is pinned down by heavy armour; they've got no air support ready. We need you to meet up with them and get them out of there. They won't be able to hold on for much longer. Get there as fast as possible, provide support and await further instructions."  
"Roger." said Skull One-One, severing the connection, then turned to Cutter. "How fast can we sprint?"

"No need." replied my commander. He pointed to the neat rows of Ghosts that sat untouched by the Skyhawks. There was more than enough; they were probably going to be used by the Covenant when we drew nearer. Well, there was no point in doing that, now that their drivers were bloody purple messes. I grabbed the purple aerodynamic machine and stared at the controls, which for all I knew would be in Greek.

The motorbike-like handles had a large red glyph on it, which looked relatively important, so I pressed that. The Ghost bleeped once and whirred to life. I awkwardly straddled the too-big seat and grasped the handlebars. "Left trigger boost, right trigger fire!" yelled Grafton as he did some practice loops. "Playtime's over people, let's get moving. Serena, my right, you, my left." commanded Cutter. Eventually we sorted ourselves out in a loose diamond formation and whirred towards the bright flashes of gunfire.

'Watch it!" yelled Cutter as Serena swerved a little bit too close for comfort. "Sorry," she apologised. "I'm trying to navigate as well as drive." We had made some good progress, and the holographic display's weird circle thing was still relatively full. "We should be there in about a minute." said Serena, her face unreadable beneath the darkened visor of her ODST helmet. "Boost to reduce the time." commanded Cutter, and I pushed firmly down on the left handlebar.

There were two bars on the holographic display, one on the left, and another on the right. They were usually stable at about half, but when I boosted, the one on the left filled up to a healthy green, while the right one drained to a transparent blue. We screamed across the hills, which were now starting to look decidedly unhealthy. There were more and more shards of glossy plastic-like material from the plasma beams, and soon we were flying over a completely alien landscape, black and fiery, with absolutely no cover from enemy fire at all.

"We're here." announced Serena unhelpfully as we entered the firefight. Cutter went straight to the stranded SMS Skull team, skidding his Ghost into a controlled slide and diving off, giving the others a chance to find cover behind it. The rest of us swooped in amongst the Covenant armour, plasma cannons blazing away. Two Wraiths exploded in a shower of plasma within four seconds of our arrival, but the other seven were more prepared. A plasma bomb crashed down on a hijacked Ghost, sending the driver and the vehicle sailing.

"We're gonna need more firepower…" I grunted as I rammed an Elite in the chest and catapulted him over my Ghost. A Wraith pilot noticed my swathe of destruction and swivelled his cannon towards me. I simply bent over the protective hood and fired my plasma cannons, only for them to click uselessly and the bar flash with Covenant writing. "This just sucks…." I deadpanned as I attempted to get away from the plasma bomb hell that it was producing. "Hey, you!" I spun around to see Grafton, harried by Ghosts, pointing at me.

"What?" He drew his grenade launcher and held it in the air so I could see it clearly. "Catch!" he commanded, and tossed the weapon into the air before swerving violently to avoid plasma fire. I boosted under the weapon, and caught it by the black leather strap. "Thanks!" I yelled to no one in particular, as Grafton was out of earshot, visibly duelling with a Spec Ops Elite that was clinging doggedly to the front of the floating vehicle.

I looped back towards the Wraith and checked that everything was in order with the grenade launcher. I flicked the safety off, and as the oversized oval whizzed past in a blur, I raised the gun and fired at point blank range. I couldn't miss. The launcher emitted a muffled _phut_ and the Covenant tank exploded in a blue cloud of superheated gas. I whooped and looked around for Grafton.

I caught him slamming the already-dead Elite repeatedly into the side of a bewildered Wraith. "Here's your gun back." I said simply as The Wraith finally managed to turn around to face him. Grafton snatched it out of my hands and used it to conk the alien off the tip of his Ghost. "Behind you!" he called out lightly as he dodged a plasma bomb belched by the Wraith. There was a muffled _clank._ I turned around and saw a black-clad Spec Ops Elite growling on the back of my Ghost. "This sucks." I complained as I ducked a slice with his Energy Sword and did circles trying to throw him off.

The Elite roared and grabbed my head and held the glowing blade to my throat. I took a deep breath and smashed my head on the rim of the purple metal hood. The Elite did a backflip over my head and went over the hood. "Well, that wasn't so-" I noticed a clawed hand clinging onto the very tip of the Ghost. "Shit."

Thinking fast, I pressed the red glyph again. The Ghost immediately died, crunching to a soft landing on top of the squashed Elite. I powered up again just in time to spin round and see Grafton's Ghost explode after a direct hit from the last Wraith's plasma bomb, the ODST doing a backwards jump which was augmented by the shockwave from the explosion, sending him high into the red sky. Graceful and as calm as ever, the soldier did an acrobatic flip before landing with a rather loud clang on top of the tank.

I watched in stunned awe as Grafton took out the surprised Brute gunner by dragging the beast out of his seat, dumping him unceremoniously on top of the tank and stamping on his left cheek several times until he passed out and stopped struggling. Grafton made sure the hairy ape was dead by shooting a round from his M6D up the Brute's nose.

The threat taken care of (The Wraith wouldn't lob bombs at itself), Grafton seemed to dance along the top of the Wraith, identify something, the hit it repeatedly with the butt of his grenade launcher until it exploded outwards, then reached in and pulled out a struggling Elite. Despite Grafton's considerable strength, the Elite's power was unrivalled and it managed to pin him to the top of the tank and draw its energy blade. No-one else noticed- they were in a firefight with the Covenant infantry.

I unslung my sniper rifle and took aim. It was pretty hard to identify where to shoot- Grafton was flailing wildly and the Elite attempting unsuccessfully to pin him to the top of the Wraith. "Screw this," I said, and bellowed, "Stop moving, Grafton!"

The ODST turned towards me in shock, saw my sniper rifle and played dead. I pressed the trigger and the Rifle barked. My aim was off by a few centimetres, but a few centimetres made all the difference. If the angle was wrong, the bullet headed off in a different direction. It hit the reptilian alien in the chest. The Elite coughed, loosened its grip, and fortunately, Grafton seized the opportunity to flip the alien off its feet and assume the offensive. He landed a swift blow to the side of the Elite's face, then as the reptile got up, he grabbed it by the neck, mandibles waggling uselessly, tossed it up like a doll, jumped, and drove his fist into its mouth, like a tennis player serving. The two figures stayed suspended in air for a moment, then the Elite was driven into the ground and Grafton landed lightly on the tank, rubbing his knuckles. He spotted me and gave a thumbs-up of gratitude.

I looked to where the rest of the Skull Teams were standing looking upon the grisly scene with absolute awe, then swung my gaze back to Grafton and shrugged. Grafton awkwardly broke the silence by suggesting, "We're gonna need this tank." The teams jolted into play again, and Cutter nodded. "Good." Serena, you take gunner duty. Harris, drive. "Roger." Harris went to the tank without another word, but Serena insisted on giving me a 'good work' punch. I guess I was the only other sniper on the team.

"SMS Skull Four-One Combine to SMS Command, we've got Two. What's the status of Five?"

"Five is under command of UNSC Forces at this time, they will not be participating in our operations. Orders are to destroy any Covenant long-range bombardment equipment. Forces are now at 87 percent capability and holding." Grafton suddenly grabbed an half-dead Elite that had snuck up behind him and impaled it violently on the sharp wreckage of his destroyed Ghost, Making sure it was actually dead this time.

"Well, better start moving. Serena, where are the Wraiths?" Serena took out her little pad from a slot in her breast plate and tapped at it thoughtfully. "The nearest one consists of five Wraiths just over that hill over there. She pointed at a rise about a kilometre away. "Right. Let's move." Skull One-One stumbled forwards as Harris reversed the Wraith into him. "What the hell?"

"Sorry, just practising," replied Harris from inside the tank. Within a minute, we were zipping about merrily in front of the slow moving tank. Grafton took Harris's Ghost, and we slowly crawled our ways forward towards the distant blue flashes as the Covenant Wraiths fired another salvo. "The UNSC Forces are within long-range missile strike range." announced Serena. The first of the SSM-90 Shamu missiles streaked from the black clouds and smashing into the earth not far from our position.

I ducked as sharp fragments of glassed earth bounced off my helmet. "Serena, tell them to stop shooting." ordered Cutter. The ODST pulled out an IFF broadcaster, which broadcast a friendly identification signal to all forces in range, and slapped it on top of the Wraith. The device adhered itself to the smooth purple metal and began broadcasting, a green light blinking on and off. We began making our way up to the top of the hill at the crawling pace of the Wraith. We crested the hill and just gaped.

The landscape in front of us could have been hell itself. Covenant tanks arranged hap-hazardly on the filthy, dull grey ground launched plasma bombs into the dirty sky. Fires smouldered all over the plain, sending plumes of black smoke up into the sky. Behind all this the wrecked city of Manassas loomed, ultra-modern buildings heaped all over each other, some burning, some glistening like they had been badly lacquered. With plasma beams of course.

There were two sections of UNSC forces closing in on the burning city, one from the north east and other from around the south. The Covenant had spread their forces out to either side, leaving a weak gap in the middle. As we watched, a squadron of Falcons buzzed overhead, and for a moment I thought I glimpsed the golden reflection of a SPARTAN's visor.

We accelerated down the slope, and Harris began bombing the Covenant positions. It wasn't long before the others noticed the renegade Wraith, and soon we were swerving in zigzags to avoid plasma bombings by five tanks. We tore down the slope in front of Harris, who was blasting the Covenant opposition into pieces with well-aimed shots from his cannon. The aliens seemed to recognise that we were seriously a threat, and about three times as much plasma whooshed through the murky sky to fall on our position.

A man from SMS Skull Two was killed instantly by a near-miss that bloomed and vaporised the Ghost that he was straddling awkwardly. We approached the Covenant positions, and the infantry began to fire a storm of plasma and needles towards us. A man from our squad was thrown off his hijacked vehicle and lay bleeding on the dirty ground. The rest of us whirred straight through the Covenant firing their weapons at us, and still more ODST were killed by a swift Elite hand snatching them off their perches or a well-aimed carbine shot smashing through their visor.

A pink round from a needler imbedded itself into my shoulder. "Gah!" I grunted as the needle started to glow red hot, signalling it was about to explode. I stuffed my knife between my teeth and yanked it out, then held it out to my side. An unlucky Elite flew past, hit the needle with his eye, and was killed instantly by the explosion. I had other problems, though.

Blood was flowing from the deep circular puncture in my skin beneath the armour, and I painfully managed to extract a syringe filled with disinfectant from my pack while controlling the Ghost with my feet. I cleaned the wound with the burning liquid, then quickly stuffed some medi-foam inside. The white substance inflated instantly, plugging the wound and administering morphine. I grunted in relief and painfully grasped the handlebars again.

In the thirty seconds I had consumed treating my wound, I had managed to scythe a trail of pain through the armada of Elites, Brutes, Grunts and Jackals guarding the Wraiths beyond using only my feet-controlled crazy driving. I glanced behind me. Luckily, most of the members of my squad had survived, with Skull One-One's group snaking its way out in front. However, Skull Two had lost most of its forces. I counted the people left. We had seventeen.

Harris was still functioning, and still raining hell upon the Covenant Wraiths, but had multiple small plasma leaks hissing out of his tank's many cracks. I pressed my microphone. "Harris, you 'kay?"

"It'll hold for a bit more. Your Ghost, on the other hand looks a little beat-up."

I turned my eyes to my vehicle for the first time. The holographic display was blinking on and off, flashing red and emitting a high-pitched beeping noise. The hood was punctured with Needler and Spiker fire, and it had multiple burn marks where plasma had melted the purple metal. "It's not gonna hold." I said, after a few small explosions rocked the front of the Covenant vehicle.

"Take a ride on mine." said Grafton.

"What?" I answered. "I thought they were one seaters…"

"An Elite is two times as big as you. Get on."


	3. Invasion

The ODST took his Ghost up alongside mine, and I nervously got up on to the back of my Ghost. "Not enough room. My sniper's gonna prevent me from getting in."

"Hang on to the back, then."

"You serious?" Grafton looked at me for a long time. "Well, here goes…" I stepped lightly onto the back of the Ghost and clutched his shoulders. My damaged Ghost zoomed away from the pack, accelerating as its engine spun faster and faster, something inside preventing it from slowing down. The hover vehicle smashed into a crashed Sparrowhawk and exploded.

"Wraiths up ahead!" yelled Serena.

"Hold on," said Grafton simply before swinging the Ghost side to side, dodging bombs falling from the sky. We approached the Covenant group, which consisted of five Wraiths, four Ghosts, and two Banshees just spooling up their engines. "Watch out for the Banshees, take them out before they take off!" yelled Cutter into the radio. Grafton cringed, then replied, "Not so loud, One, my ears are already blown to bits. Roger, we'll take out the Banshees."

He unslung his grenade launcher with one hand and passed it to me. I caught it on a reflex, and looked through the sights at the purple aircraft. The Banshee wobbled into the air, and Grafton took us under. I gripped the end of the Ghost as best as I could with my thighs, and aimed the Grenade launcher straight up into the air. The shell spat from the barrel and lodged firmly into the underbelly, and the Banshee disintegrated in a smoking oily mess.

I pulled another grenade out of Grafton's sling and pushed it into the open barrel, then snapped the barrel back into a firing position. A plasma bomb blossomed next to the Ghost- "Shit." I said simply, before my sense of balance failed me and tipped to the right and landed on my face. I briefly heard the "Wort Wort Wort" of an Elite battle cry, and rolled out of the way as needler rounds imbedded themselves on the ground inches from my face!

I swore and rolled again to my feet, reaching for Grafton's grenade launcher in the process. "Alright." I growled, rising to my feet and looking through my flickering damaged VISOR at the pack of Elites, "let's see what you've got." The Elites broke into a fast run, a Silvery Zealot leading two reds and two blues. I hefted the grenade launcher and fired with a thump. The Zealot barked a warning, and the Elites scattered.

I threw the grenade launcher to the ground and watched with satisfaction as shrapnel from the explosion cut down one blue Elite. The Zealot activated his energy sword, blue tendrils of pure plasma wafting out from the shaped blade, while the other Elites pulled out Needle Rifles. They gradually accelerated to a sprint, and I unsheathed my small combat knife from my shoulder sheath.

The Zealot lunged the final metre and sliced down with his sword, which I sidestepped easily, then brought it back over his head, which clipped my on the elbow and burned my armour. I kicked an Elite Minor in the mandibles, depleting his shields, then used my knife to knock the rifle out of his hands and into the air. I spun round, grabbed the Major sneaking up on me and banged their helmets together. The helmets collided with a dull clang, and I stepped up onto the two Elites' heads and jumped, pushing both to the ground. I snatched the needle rifle out of the air and coiled over a flurry of pink crystals fired by the remaining Major.

The two Elites had begun to sit back up which I fell onto the first one feet first and simultaneously used the rifle to conk the Minor over the head. I fired the rest of the clip into the Elite and jumped back as the small explosion took both aliens out. The Zealot screamed with anger and swiped at me with the sword. I ducked under the sizzling blade and jammed my rifle into his mouth, feeling the slight resistance as the tip met the shields, then broke its way through.

I continued my push upwards, over balancing the Elite and sending him head over heels. I threw the empty rifle away and transferred my knife to my right hand. The Elite squirmed and his eyes widened. I looked up and leapfrogged sideways, landing with a roll on the glassed earth as the sole remaining Major brought his Energy Sword down in a powerful swipe, slashing through the air, and into the chest armour of the Elite Zealot. Before the red Elite had a chance to react, I kicked him in the face so hard the reptile went sprawling, then grabbed the Zealot's energy blade and finished it off.

I threw the energy sword onto the ground, where it lay smouldering, charring a nearby clump of yellow grass. I took a quick look around me to assess the situation. The remaining four Elites on the ground were embroiled in a fierce fight with the mounted ODSTs. I had had enough close encounters for long range. Time to stick to what I do best. I unslung my rifle, found a nice covered spot and set up my rifle.

An elite's head exploded in a fine mist. Perfect. I casually pulled out the 20mm shell and loaded another and took aim. I fired again, glancing the round off the flying Banshee's cockpit and sending it into an Elite's chest. My helmet radio crackled to life as Grafton opened up a secure com-link to me. "That's you shooting right?'

"Yeah," I replied.

"We'll handle the Elites, take care of that Banshee."

"Roger." I snapped on my 30mm rifle, looked again through the sights, searching for the distinctive smoke trail of the two anti-gravity pods of the Covenant aircraft. I didn't have to wait long- the ungainly purple machine drifted right into my line of sight. I pressed down firmly on the trigger, and a line of pencil thin mist appeared from the barrel. The bullet glanced off the side of the Banshee, and the aircraft swivelled menacingly towards me.

"Crap…." I snapped another round into the rifle and took aim. "Where to shoot…" I mused as the Banshee started to drift closer, ignoring the plasma fire from the ODSTs. My scope drifted all over the Banshee- and stopped at the right anti-gravity pod. "Let's see if this works…" I muttered, lining the target up.

A fired, and a second later, the round smashed the glowing machinery inside the pod. The Banshee wobbled unsteadily, and I fired another round into the left pod. The Covenant aircraft dropped like a stone and smashed into the ground. "Nice work, Five." said Serena approvingly.

I tapped the radio twice and got to my feet. "What next?" I asked Skull One-One.

"I'll request an air drop from the Falcon squadron and Vulture, then we'll be off to the next site. Serena, where are the UNSC attackers?"

"They are well within Scorpion range at this point, overall integrity at 80.9 percent and holding. I recommend we wait for the drop then punch through the Covenant defences and help the overall attack."

"Right. I'll call in the drop now." Cutter switched to a public frequency and started broadcasting. "SMS Skull Four to Tear One-One and Disco One Flight, requesting an affirm."

"Tear One-One, affirm, status is ready for insertion for three Scorpions, holding position over Point Bulldog, where do you need us?"

"This is Disco One-One, affirm, status is ready with one Warthog, also holding position over Point Bulldog, where do we go?"

"Setting up transmitter now." Serena erected a small radio broadcaster from her backpack, and set it on the ground. "Okay, we see it, reading SMS Skull Four strength five."

"We need all of your vehicles, thanks."

"Roger that, Tear One-One coming off-station."

"Roger, Disco One-One coming off-station."

We sat around on the cold hard glass until the Vulture roared in and dropped its cargo of three tanks, which landed heavily on the glass. All of SMS Skull Four fit snugly on one tank while the other two squads boarded the two other tanks, leaving two people behind to operate a Warthog. "Alright. I'll drive. Serena, you plot a course that the Covenant will hate us for. Grafton, you take turret. The rest of you go shotgun." commanded Grafton.

"Why can't I drive?" complained Morales loudly.

"I served with an armoured division. Get on the back." replied Cutter indifferently. SMS Skull Four scrambled onto the pieces of armour that covered the treads, Grafton and Cutter dancing lightly over the body of the Scorpion and dropping into their hatches. Seconds later, the light tank revved up and motored out. "The main Covenant force is 35 degrees west of Point Bulldog. If we form up a spearhead formation, we can push through to the main UNSC forces. I recommend calling or a bomb run on the position with napalm, otherwise we'll be swamped by the sheer numbers of Covenant there."

"How many Covenant are there?" asked Harris.

"Over fifty Wraiths, twenty AA-Wraiths, plus countless amounts of Grunts, Jackals, Elites, Brutes, the lot."

"Alright, how much ammunition has everybody have?"

"I've got one-fifty rounds for my subs, five grenades, and few stickies." said Grafton.

"Sixteen rounds for my rifle and sixty for my M6." said Serena.

"Fifty-two for my shotgun, six frags, sixty for my M6D." said Harris.

"One-twenty for my BR, nine pieces of C-4 and two frags." said Morales.

"….Around eighty for my machinegun, six for my 30mm, ten for the 20mm and seventeen for my M6." I said, hefting the sniper rifle-turned machinegun in my hands. "Is that enough for everybody?" asked Cutter, rolling over a pile of bodies as he followed SMS Skull One's tank. "I think so." said Grafton, swinging the 20mm heavy machinegun left and right as he swept the horizon for enemies.

The small squad of Scorpion tanks rumbled over the hard, razed ground, their twin tracks imprinting six thick lines of crushed material behind us. "Enemy in sight!" cried out Scyros, looking through the scope of her sniper rifle. I put the scope to my eye and looked through it. Eight Wraiths burped white- blue balls of plasma towards the invading UNSC, while countless amounts of Grunts, Elites, Brutes and Jackals manned turrets or fuel rod guns or walked around in a patrol. "Fire when I give the word." said Skull One-One, swivelling his cannon towards the Wraiths.

The tanks steadily closed the distance between the Covenant force, and when I couldn't believe that the Covenant still haven't spotted us yet, SMS Skull One's tank fired its 90mm cannon. The muzzle brake engaged, stopped the gun in its recoil and gently pushed it back forward as the auto-reloader did its job. The shell arced its way into the middle of a Covenant Patrol sending the ape-like Brute and seven Grunts flailing wildly into the sky. Cutter fired next, and I winced as the resounding boom of the cannon echoed across the plain. A Wraith exploded into flames, then died in a huge secondary blast as its engine corrupted.

As soon as the whining in my ears stopped, I raised my M6D, opened up the scope and fired away. Beside me, Serena aimed and fired her rifle, hitting each and every time. The third tank in our little armada fired, smashing its round into a group of Grunts and Jackals. The little hardy Warthog zipped ahead, the two men on it ploughing a route through the sea of Covenant forces gathered around their tanks. A plasma round hit the Scorpion of SMS Skull One, but the sturdy vehicle took it like an anvil, plowing determinedly on, with its men safe behind the track guards that protected them.

Cutter fired off another shot, hitting another Wraith, then swerved out of the way as a bomb splashed down in front of us. The MBT rumbled right through the dissipating plasma gas, the added EMP in the air making my VISOR fuzz slightly. We got close enough for Morales to start using his battle rifle, which he did to devastating effect, nailing Brute after Brute in the face with burst of fire. I snapped the safety off the gun as more plasma bombs fell around us, kicking up mountains of shredded glass and dirt.

Grafton hunched over his gun, then began firing, expression unreadable behind his glazed VISOR. I could tell he was enjoying it. We waded into the outskirts of the Covenant camp, quashing deployable cover hastily set up as if they were merely ghosts. I shouldered the gun and started firing, walking the stream off bullets through the bodies of Grunts and Elites like they were paper. Behind me the turret rotated and fired off another round, knocking an offending Banshee clean out of the air. Harris pumped his shotgun and fired a cluster of shells into an Elite's face.

SMS Skull Two's tank ploughed through some Covenant living quarters, sending Elites hurriedly strapping on their armour swarming out of the large rectangular shelter. My gun clicked dry, and I fished out my last remaining clip of machinegun ammunition. "Last mag!" I announced, slapped it home with a sense of finality. Morales took the leisure of reaching out and slapping a wad of C7 explosive onto a Wraith we had brushed. He laughed as the tank blew outwards, showering us in shards of hot metal. Behind us, Ghosts whirred out from nowhere, only to be intercepted by a rampaging 4-Wheel Drive. "Yo, Skull Four, check this out!" The Warthog driver shouted over the radio, and we all turned around to watch as the Warthog allowed the Ghosts to line up neatly behind it, then the driver winked and reach forward to the dashboard, and pressed something.

The Ghost directly behind the little Warthog suddenly blew up in a chain reaction, and I could see three large metal X-shaped spikes sitting amiably on the ground. "Cute." Morales deadpanned. "Where did you find them?" as he plucked a flying Grunt out of the air and tossed it under the treads. "I dunno, there when I got the 'Hog." replied the driver, speeding away, gunner resuming his endless barrage of fire into the seething crowd.

Sparrowhawks flew overhead, and Grafton shouted, "Air Support's here!"

"This is Brimstone Seven-Four through Seven, pickle, pickle." Four cylindrical objects dropped from each helicopter. Two hundred metres in front of us, the ground burst into flame, incinerating hundreds of blood-thirsty aliens and tanks. "Ha, good drop good drop." shouted the pilot. A Wraith exploded. "Hey, secondaries, don't see that from a carpet bombing every day." The three Sparrowhawks buzzed back the way they came, cannons blazing down the Covenant position.

"Also there, people." said Grafton, firing non-stop. We could see the outer perimeter of the camp, a line of purple deployable walls. "We need a hole, One!" said Harris. Cutter aimed the turret and fired. The barrier blew outwards, plowing into some Elites, Brutes and Jackals making a valiant last stand. We reached the area of the carpet bombardment, and suddenly the resistance wavered, and we broke free of the continuous plasma fire and needler rounds.

A plasma bomb hit SMS Skull Two's tank, but it shrugged it off and nailed the Wraith with a well-aimed shot. Ahead, I could see the remnants of the outer ring forming up to present a moderate resistance while holding back the first UNSC forces to arrive. "We made it!" Serena whooped, and promptly ducked behind the shields as a plasma bomb exploded on our tank. As I blinked my vision back into focus, Cutter said, "Not quite… Almost, but not quite there…" Ten Wraiths lined up against us, their plasma turrets drumming a continuous beat on the red-hot barrier in front of me.

SMS Skull One's tank fired at a cluster of volatile plasma batteries for the Wraith's cannons, taking out two Wraiths. Banshees swooped in, and fired their fuel rod cannons. Cutter swerved hard left, took a fuel rod on the turret, rotated his turret, and smashed the banshee out of the sky. Behind us, the Warthog was hit on the windshield by a plasma bomb and blew up into little shreds of burning metal.

The Wraiths fired a huge broadside, and we were pummelled by six bombs in a row. "She's starting to feel it now." grunted Grafton as the armour warped and twisted. I fired at a Banshee screaming overhead, only for it to get knocked out of the sky by a rocket! I spun round in shock, to find, ahead of us, gloriously, a Falcon buzzing past, carrying two SPARTANs on its pads. "SMS Skull Teams, come in. We're here for you." In the distance were Scorpions fast approaching, gunning their engines towards as fast as they could. "We'll." said Grafton. "Looks like we've got an all start cast for this performance… Thanks."

"No problem. Look. You've pretty much opened the door into Manassas." In our wake was a trail of devastation, Covenant equipment and bodies everywhere. "ODSTs, eh?" said the SPARTAN. "Almost as good as us."

Serena pegged a rock at him. "Nobody's better than us." she grinned.

The SPARTAN III turned and fired another rocket into a Wraith lining us up. "Talking with SPARTANs later, surviving now." He said. Cutter swivelled his turret and destroyed a group of Brutes coming our way. Wolverine missiles lanced white trails through the air, raining hell upon any Covenant vehicles left. When the final Elite fell," Cutter stopped the tank, and the UH-144 landed on the glassed earth, and out stepped the SPARTANs and some Marines with a hefty bag of parts.

I rolled off the tank and lay on the hard blackened ground. "I could lie like this all day." I said.

The SPARTANs looked over me, yellow armour covered in dirt and scratch marks. I noticed for the first time that I was covered in blood and gore. I got up and flicked a piece of gut off my shoulder. "Do we have a sitrep?" asked Cutter. "

Yeah, we do." said a marine half-inside the inner workings of the tank, while another replaced our bent parts. "After we rest here for a few minutes and wait for some more SPARTANs to come in, we'll move into Manassas. Covies are dug in deep, though. Colonel reckons it'll be some time before we completely liberate the city." He withdrew his torso from the hatch and looked towards the burning, smoking city. "Not that there'll be much to liberate." he snorted.


	4. The Calm before The Storm

I grabbed two clips off the 20mm racks and threw my 30mm cartridges into the pile of dead weapons. "Why are you throwing it away?" asked Serena. "We might come across some Wraiths."

I pulled a MA37 Assault Rifle out of a box and slung it over my shoulder. "We've got Harris, haven't we?" I replied, "And my rounds only work when fired at the back of the Wraith." Serena grabbed some clips of the rack and stuffed them into her belt without another word. Harris walked by, whistling nonchalantly as he causally bounced a grenade on his palm. I gave Serena a 'See what I mean?' look.

The ODST turned away from me and went to load up her pistol. I cricked my neck and walked over to Morales. The Martian was wedging C7 in every single crack he had on his shoulder, even between his armour plates. "You better not let me get shot." he growled. "If one piece of plasma hits me, you'll all be gone." he continued, breaking his false grumpiness.

I slapped him on the back and thread my way towards Cutter's Scorpion. "So' we've become an armoured unit now?"

Cutter looked up from a bit of welding he was doing. "Sorta Kinda. We'll be taking this Scorpion and traveling with other tanks towards the city, attempt to breach its outer wall and make our way inside. Once we're inside, however, air support will be limited to Falcons and Sparrowhawks, maybe a Pelican if we can get above the buildings."

He jumped into the driver's hatch and attempted to start the engine. The big piece of machinery spluttered and spewed smoke all over the place, then died. Cutter swore half-heartedly and clambered out of the hole in the body. I helped him replace some wrecked parts, then napped on the ground for some time.

Serena shook me awake gently. "Get up, we're moving out." I sat up, grabbed my two guns and strapped them awkwardly to my back, then followed the woman to the MBT. Cutter was triumphantly revving the engine, while Grafton chambered rounds in the gun turret. Above us, the sky flashed as the UNSC Navy reengaged the Covenant ships floating above the planet. What appeared to be an Elephant with a huge railgun on top of it trundled past, with a long trailer of huge shells. "What the hell is that?" asked Harris.

"Micro-MAC System." said Grafton. "We downsized some MACs you find on frigates and the like, and the only thing that could carry the thing was an Elephant. The cannon needs six people to operate, and can level two buildings in one shot."

"We'll be following this one for the invasion. It'll be our commanding unit at this time." said Cutter, driving after it. "Have we got a go for the invasion?" crackled a voice on our radios. "Yeah, we're three minutes late, actually, replied someone."

"Roger that. Micro MACs, breach the wall and get inside the city. Scorpions and Wolverines will provide support for the Micro MACs. Warthogs are to move ahead of the main force and eliminate enemy heavy armour. We can't lose the Micro MACs. All units clear to engage." Cutter roared out of the camp, and I focused my sniper rifle sights on the wall. It was literally lined with Covenant Shade Turrets and AA Wraiths, cannons poised ready to fire as soon as we were within range. Banshees floated up from the city, until more than sixty hovered between us and Manassas.

"That's a lot of targets…" muttered Harris under his breath as he loaded slugs into his shotgun. Grafton fed a belt into the machinegun. "All the more fun…" Falcons, Sparrowhawks and UCAVs buzzed overhead, missiles bristling under their stubby wings. "At least we got air support." mumbled Morales, finishing off a MRE. He threw the packet away and donned his helmet, face disappearing behind the expression-less VISOR mode. "They've saved our asses what, two, three times today?" he continued, slamming a clip home into his XBR as more sleek black UCAV Drones screamed overhead.

The Banshees broke formation, boosting out to meet the UNSC aircraft. The sky ahead of us quickly filled with missiles and burning planes. The Micro MAC in front of us suddenly hummed and clicked loudly, extending the rail gun up into the air, and the barrel telescoped to a ready position. Cutter loaded the first shell with a metallic clank, and swung the turret side to side experimentally.

"Works fine." he said unhelpfully. Serena tapped her pad, the announced, "Within Micro MAC range." The next few minutes were spent plowing straight forward, dodging plasma bomb rain and returning fire with everything we had, with the exceptions of the Micro MACs. "Why aren't we firing?" I asked. "They want to get in before the Covenant come out. The MACs are gonna fire at 50 metres, then all of the UNSC forces are going to swarm the entrance and try and break through."

"Right." We thundered towards the thick barrier protecting the Covenant forces. "Gonna be in range any minute now…" breathed Cutter as a Scorpion next to us took four rapid hits in succession and stopped dead in its tracks. As we advanced closer, the Covenant fire became more accurate, and we started to lose tanks and men. Eventually, the Covenant fire petered out and stopped as we closed the gap. They wouldn't launch bombs at themselves or the wall. The Elephant in front of us stopped and raised its turret.

I hoped that my helmet would protect me from the most of the sound and watched with interest. The railgun trembled and hissed steam. Technicians pulled out two giant plugs at the back of the barrel, and quickly stepped aside as white vapour exploded out from the twin sockets. The gun swivelled right and stopped, while Marines wearing special equipment prepared to load the MAC. The rectangular shape of the barrel telescoped out of the man turret and an officer took his place at the front of the turret.

The turret swivelled one last time and finally seemed to find its target. A set of holes snapped open in the barrel, and the Marines shoved the waiting MAC round into the cannon. "Stations, Ready!" barked the officer on a loudhailer. "Ready!" replied three voices.  
"Fire!" yelled the officer.

The MAC fired in a bright flash of light, and a stream of bright light lanced into the wall without a sound. With an audible crack, the wall crumbled away from the trails, each shockwave produced by the hyper-velocity shell expanding the gap, until a gap twenty metres wide was created. The Warthogs, which had been holding their peace inside the Elephant or amongst us, now seized the opportunity and roared into the crack.

I half expected them to come racing back out with an angry horde of Covenant armour on their butts, but they radioed, "Alpha One-Two to all units. Sector A-3 is clear of all Covenant." Similar reports flooded in from all the other fronts of action. "Looks like they withdrew from the wall. They're probably setting up multiple traps ahead of us until we get to their centre." muttered Cutter, easing us cautiously into the remains of the walls. We were in a large plaza, lined with dying greenery and drifting pieces of paper. Cutter ground to a halt and reversed into a shaded dirty side alley just wide enough to fit the tank. More armour rolled in through the gaping hole and spilled out onto the roads that snaked around the city.

The Elephant nosed its way to the front of the formation and trundled down the main street, cannon training left and right cautiously. Cutter rejoined the group, bringing up the rear. The large convoy stopped at the base of a massive skyscraper that had toppled awkwardly onto the street, preventing us from getting in further. Morales looked through my sniper rifle.

"We might have a problem." he said after a few minutes of surveying. "What?" asked Cutter from inside the tank. "Those blast marks are recent. The buildings have been demolished two hours before our invasion, if we want to be general."

"But that can only be-" started Serena, whipping her head around dramatically. "-an ambush?" I finished.

"Damn it," breathed Cutter, swivelling the turret behind him to look for Covenant. "Any way we can alert the Elephant?"

Serena was already on it. "SMS Skull Team Four to Micro MAC Three, suspected ambush at six o'clock." I raised my VISOR mode with a verbal command. "Battle Mode Infra-red One." The world lit up in rainbow colours, and I could see the white engine of the Scorpion outlined against the almost purple cooling fluid. I scanned the walls of the buildings behind us and saw glowing red and white shapes of Covenant vehicles moving stealthily towards us, their distinctive whirring hidden beneath the commotion of UNSC engines and shouted commands.

"Cutter. Five o'clock low. Fire as soon as you get there." Cutter immediately swivelled his gun towards the offending Covenant force and fired a shot. The 90mm shell blasted out from the muzzle and careened down the street, before smashing right into the shop that sat between the two roads. The other tanks got the message, and started putting down a salvo of cannon shots while the Elephant hurriedly prepared its MAC.

The Covenant swarmed around the corner, plasma guns firing with their distinctive metallic _tsew_ noises. Wraiths floated out from another corner, and soon the city echoed with plasma bursts and explosions. I looked around from behind my personnel shield and found something. "Cutter. Seven-thirty high. Shoot through that building. There's a bunch of explosives there. I think."

"You better think right kid." said Cutter, before raising his turret and booming a shell into the glass UNSC building. The steel structure exploded outwards, showering the Covenant with burning piles of girders and rubble. "Well." said Harris. Covenant troops poured through the left hand street and Cutter swung his attention back to them. "Got anything else that will make this any easier?" he asked.

"Nope."

"…Fine. Skull Two, get to work." Grafton hunched over his machinegun and tore away at the incoming forces, while other tanks kept the vehicles coming in from the right at bay. "We got that MAC charged yet?" asked Morales. I took a swift glance behind me. "Not yet." The MAC was currently being loaded with a smaller shell. "I wonder what bullet they're using now." said Serena. "Stations, Ready!" came the call.

"Ready!" I turned around to watch. The Cannon depressed to an outrageously low angle, then the officer barked, "Fire!" and the cannon spat several rounds while snapping back up. The rounds spiralled lazily through the air before imbedding themselves in a gentle parabolic arc on the building, and then exploded inwards with a muffled bang. The glass building crumbled away and eventually split in half. A few Scorpions demolished what was left, creating a sufficient gap for the rest of the UNSC forces to escape through.

"Move!" Cutter roared for the gap, travelling backwards while keeping his turret pinned on the Covenant ambush forces. "We're the last ones through. Fire a shot into the right side of the destroyed tower. I'm detecting some severed gas pipes still working. We can probably make a partial blockade." Cutter jammed us through the hole, then fired where I directed him.

The exterior of the building exploded outwards, showering us with shards of glass and burning bits of metal. "Well, that did turn out as well as I expected." I deadpanned. The Covenant chasing us veered off and disappeared into the streets. "I have a feeling they're gonna be back. " said Serena.

I slung my sniper rifle and allowed myself to relax just a little. We pushed our way through the city, quashing out several Covenant infantry forces trying to stop us. "We're almost there, people." said someone over the radio. One of the Micro MACs broadcasted, "Micro MAC Two is in position, ready to begin main attack."

"Main attack right. We should go through it." said Serena. We huddled around her pad as she called up numerous satellite pictures. The Covenant base is firmly in the middle of Manassas. It is protected from all sides by a system of two-metre thick Titanium A doors. "How the hell did they get those?" asked Morales. "It's in the middle of Manassas' highway network. We use lock-down doors for shutting down access or opening up rush-hour routes in big cities. The Covenant plopped their base right in the central hub. There are mazes of roads leading around it with entrances here, here, and here."

Her finger moved across three places, all covered by a door. "This is where MAC Two is. They'll bust through the door and begin heading up the highway towards the base. The Covenant will have placed traps along the roads, so we've got to get helos in to fire an EMP charge to stop the mines from triggering. This will happen when all three main forces are at the door. MAC Four, with us and the other tanks will enter the fight from the subway system. We'll pop up right underneath the Covenant base and try and get inside."

Serena's hands manipulated the pad, calling up three-dimensional imagery of the Covenant base, a three storeyed structure, complete with Wraith manufacturing stations scattered around the central hub and multiple airstrips, where Banshees and Spirits took off from. "Once we're inside, we'll attempt to disable the base's point shield defence system, which will stop all attempts for the other teams to get in. I'll be doing that bit. After that, we hang tight until they get to the base itself, and then we'll join up and eradicate any Covenant presence in the surrounding area."

"Sounds complex."

"Very."


	5. By All Means

"Clear!"

"Clear!" Morales, with a sense of jubilance, pushed his thumb into the red button that marked the destruction of the subway barrier. The white and orange explosion ripped through the air, showering the tanks and Elephant with debris. "That was the best boom I've had in a long time." said Morales, thrusting a fist into the air.

"Get in." groused Cutter. Morales scrambled back on board, and we followed the rest of the UNSC tanks into the subway. The deserted underground was filled with shadows, and once or twice a stealth Elite jumped out of the shadows, grasped someone and killed him before the rest of us pumped him full of lead.

We slowly approached the tracks, and eased ourselves onto the dark, dirty rails. There was an abandoned train carriage, and Cutter blew it out of the way, the throaty boom echoing back to us from the dim, silent room. We pushed our way past the burning cylinder and headed into the tunnels. "I hope the Elephant driver knows where he's going." muttered Grafton under his breath as we took a right, then another immediate left turn.

We fought our way past a Covenant blockade, and finally saw daylight at the end of the tunnel. We stopped in the last of the darkness, just out of sight of the many turrets mounted on the base. Harris took a swig of something from a bottle tucked away in his pants. "All MAC groups report in."

"Four, in position, ready to bust out."

"One is in position."

"Two."

"Three has just arrived."

"Disco One-One and One-Two, ready to engage."

"Roger that, Disco, you are cleared in hot."

"Roger. Disco One and Two, engaging."

I could hear the twin buzzing of the two UH-144 helicopters as they droned overhead, guns blazing, dropped their first load, circled around, dodged a bit of plasma, pickled their second, roared under the highway, dropping two cylindrical objects just in front of us that telescoped antennae and started emitting an electric burst wired to Covenant electronics. The two Falcons circled round a final pass, and dropped their last EMP pods. "Ordnance away, we're bugging out."

"Roger. All units begin attacks." Several loud booms rippled through the air, the sound of MACs tearing through Titanium A. The Elephant in front of us began advancing, churning up out of the subway and crawling onto an adjoining piece of highway. The UNSC tanks split up, all taking different routes, but their ultimate goal was reach the vehicle hangar at the bottom of the base.

I took a moment to look around. We were in some kind of wheel shaped open air room, with plants growing all around us. Many of them were now dying, or being torn to shreds or set on fire by plasma or machinegun fire. Cutter smashed through a thin chain-link fence and rampaged through an open shipping container before scrambling onto the asphalt highway. I raised my sniper rifle and surveyed our route. There were several Covenant road-blocks up ahead; several of them manned by Elites and Grunts, some manning plasma turrets, others toting fuel rod guns.

Cutter raised his gun and blew a chunk out of a Covenant structure blocking our path, and Serena and I snapped our rifles to our noses and boomed away. Alien after alien fell either by our shots or Grafton's endless storm of 25mm fire from his machinegun. The Scorpion took a hit from a Wraith's plasma bombs seconds before Grafton tore its outer armour shell apart, and I finished it off with a shot into the Brute driver's exposed head behind the weak scaffolds.

We slogged our way up the highway, aware of the Elephant taking it out on the Covenant forces in front of it, pelting them with 20mm and 25mm gunfire. Other tanks joined us as we approached the underside of the Covenant base, some blowing up as they sustained continuous damage from plasma rain, or were blown apart by Banshees whirling overhead.

"Can we get any air support?" I asked Cutter.

The leader blew away an offending Elite firing its plasma repeater defiantly. "Grant, what have we got?" Serena tapped her pad, hiding behind the personnel shield as it took the brunt of a plasma storm. "I've got 50 UCAVs ready to go."

"Send them all in. Tell the others to call in their units as well." Serena tapped the icon, then made a public radio broadcast. We were almost underneath the base when the drone fighters screamed in. The jets thundered through the pillars and bridges, their lack of pilot enabling them to withstand up to 14Gs. The Micro MAC pulled out in front of us, aiming its MAC at the vehicle bay. "Stations, Ready!"

"Ready!"

"Fire!" The MAC opened up and fired a large sausage-shaped bomb, which hit the road bounced once, and activated inside the Covenant bay. It was an AP/AT-99 Scatter Grenade, found only on specialised cannon mounts for Elephants. The MAC probably was one of them. The bay erupted in a hail of 2 foot splinters, followed by seven blue plasma explosions as the vehicles inside reacted violently to having bits of tungsten being stuck into their engines.

We finally reached the vehicle bay, and Grafton cleaned up the survivors with a full clip all over the cramped space. "Dismount!" barked the officer, as the Elephant retracted its turret to fit inside the room. We levered ourselves cautiously onto the ground, guns out and sweeping the room. "Clear!" shouted Cutter, before snapping his M7/S silenced SMG to a passive position. Marines piled out of the other tanks, and marched off into the narrow corridors on their own side missions.

"Take the left route." said Serena, hauling herself up onto the walkway above the depressed storage area. "We'll go up a flight of stairs, take a left and we should be there. Only thing is, it's full of guards. I hid the custom sniper rifle under a bunch of bodies and scooped up a Plasma Repeater, and waited as the advanced microcomputer in my glove established electronic contact with the Covenant weaponry, analysing its weapon type and calculating exactly how much ammunition was in it.

A bar appeared in the bottom right of my visor, with the Repeater's name and a bar that wobbled for a bit before levelling out at 78 percent. "All ready?" asked Cutter. Serena dumped her rifle and picked up a pair of plasma pistols. "I guess." she said.

We advanced cautiously down the corridors. Just before the stairs, we heard to grumble of Covenant voices. Grafton stole a glance, then withdrew around the corner before they noticed it. "Four Elites, two Skirmishers and a Brute."

Cutter mulled it over, then said, "Serena, hit the Brute with an over charge. I'll finish him off. Grafton, take the Elites with the grenade launcher, bring down their shields, the rest of you take them down. In three."

Cutter counted down, then Serena and Grafton jumped into view, Serena's Plasma Pistols already glowing green with charged energy. Grafton fired his gun at the Elites bickering amongst themselves, enveloping the group of aliens in a small cloud of fire and smoke, while Serena's twin green balls of energy smashed into the Brute standing guard, sending him reeling backwards.

They both jumped back around the corner with twin "Clear" shouts.

We entered the fray, leaping out guns blazing. The aliens were cut down by the storm of fire, and we entered the room, whipping from side to side for any signs of a threat. "Clear!" shouted Harris. I scavenged another Plasma Repeater from the dead hands of an Elite and stood back up. "We go up through the stairs and the controls should be at the right side of the room." directed Serena.

An Elite Ultra bounded around the corner. "Shit!" I yelled as it tackled me, snarling savagely. Grafton jumped on top of it and dragged its neck back, but the Elite growled and flexed its back muscles, shaking Grafton off its back, then backhanded the ODST across the face, sending him against a wall with some force. I extracted my combat knife from my shoulder sheath while holding him back with my left hand. Cutter shouted an order I couldn't hear, then the Ultra over powered me and pinned my left hand against the floor.

Serena fired several shots from the plasma pistols in her hands, but the Elite let go of me and jumped onto the wall and used it as a springboard to launch itself at Serena. I managed to snatch its leg as it leaped towards her, slamming it face first into the wall millimetres from Serena's helmet. The ODST didn't have time to draw her knife, so she punched the Elite in the base of the neck.

The shields protecting the Covenant flared, and Serena withdrew her fist with a yelp. Cutter fired his SMG uselessly, which only served to enrage the beast. When Cutter stopped to reload, the Elite activated its energy sword and slashed at him. Cutter rolled out of the way, allowing me to jump up and onto the Elite's back. I ran up the reptile's spine, and before losing all momentum, my legs reached the Elite's massive shoulders and I jumped above him, yelling, "Serena, overcharge!"

Serena charged the pistols up and fired twin blasts of dense overheated plasma into the Elite's shields. The energy barrier flickered and died as the EMP dispersed through the system of honeycombing energy. I slid across the roof on my legs and pushed out, hurling myself into the Ultra's chest. I could feel the air whoosh out of the creature's lungs, and I drew my combat knife and plunged it into his right hand. The alien dropped its energy sword and flinched, and Morales charged forward, dropped to his thighs and snatched it up as he slid the last three metres to in front of the alien.

"Bastard." he said simply before plunging the steaming blade into the creature's chest. The Elite jerked once and died. "Remember, we're in a Covenant base." said Cutter, sitting up with a groan. "The enemy could attack at any time they want."

Thus humbled, we advanced up the flight of stairs, and emerged right in the middle of a Covenant trap. Six grenades were immediately dropped on Serena's helmet, and she ripped off the VISOR and threw it into the air seconds before it exploded in six bright blue explosions. Her blond hair trailing behind her, she yelled, "Cover me!" Grafton leaped in front of her, shaking as his armour hissed under the plasma fire. "There's too many!" he yelled, twin SMGs blazing.

"This sucks!" yelled Morales, firing his XBR55. "Retreat! Retreat!" yelled Cutter, only for the door at the far side of the room to burst open, revealing a single SPARTAN-III. He wore black armour, which a tinted gold visor, and had no weapons on him. He simply cricked his neck and cracked his knuckles before tearing into the shocked Covenant.

Using only his hands and feet, he delivered a fast set of swift punches to a Major's face, knocking down the Elite's shields and finishing him off with a powerful uppercut, which sent the reptile sailing to the roof, which he hit at least going fifty kilometres an hour. Before the body had fallen, he annihilated a group of terrified Grunts, plowing into them with casual ease. A Zealot Elite lunged at him, as did a Brute Chieftain, both roaring angrily. The SPARTAN stepped to the side as the Brute swung its lethal Gravity Hammer, the wave of energy smashing into the Zealot and cracking him brutally against a wall.

The SPARTAN kicked the Brute forward, and broke its neck with an audible crack. He picked up the gravity hammer and blocked a Major's swipe with an energy sword, shearing right through the handle. The super-soldier tossed the heavy head of the Brute weapon into the Major's chest, pasting him against the wall as the hammer overloaded violently and exploded, sending Elite giblets and blood all over the room.

Another Zealot swiped at him, which the SPARTAN dodged and smashed his elbow into the Elite's face, but the reptile shrugged it off and counterattacked, driving his right fist into the SPARTAN. We had all crept out of the stairwell and were fighting with the rest of the Covenant. The super-soldier fell with a loud clunk of metal hitting metal, and the Zealot resisted all attempts to get back up. I snapped out of my awe and bounded into action.

I threw myself into the Zealot, my momentum rolling him off the SPARTAN and buying him a few seconds to stand back up. The Zealot got the upper hand easily, actually within five seconds. He thrust me up into the air, backhanded Grafton across the face as he tried to help me, and raised his sword. I scrabbled for a grenade behind my back.

I shouted, "Serena, overcharge!" and primed the grenade. Serena fired the twin pistols into the Zealot, depleting the energy weapons and the Elite's shields. I saw the shields flare in their last seconds of life, then jammed the live grenade into the reptile's mouth, only to realise that he was still holding onto me, even if he was going to die!

I waited for the white heat that would kill me, but the SPARTAN grabbed the Zealot's hand and broke it in three places with a brutal twist. I dropped to the floor, gasping for breath, while the SPARTAN threw himself on top of me. The Zealot's head exploded in a fine mix of brains and blood, and the charred body slumped to the floor.

Cutter dispatched the last Brute with a simple shot to the head with his pistol, then stood up. He seemed unaffected by the spectacular carnage that the SPARTAN had done, or the fact that the man was a SPARTAN-III. Silent gratitude wafted from the soldier. Cutter saluted the giant man, and the SPRATAN returned the gesture, gave me a thumbs-up and strode off down the hallway. Seconds later I could hear the sounds of punches being delivered and Elites and Grunts barking panicked orders or comments.

Serena's hair hung distinctively over her left eye as she focused with her right, tapping feverishly on the virtual keyboard on her pad. "The Covenant mainframe is protected by a type–three security protocol. The pad isn't designed to handle codes like these, but it'll do the job." She explained. Morales guarded the door while continued sounds of extreme pain drifted out from the corridor. "Looks like the SPARTAN's doing a fine job." said Cutter somewhat awkwardly.

"Yes." I replied.

"Finished." said Serena, plugging in a large flash drive to her pad. She pulled out the flash drive and asked, "Morales, do you have some duct tape?"

"Never leave home without them." The Martian handed Serena a large wad of grey plastic tape, used for sticking C7 plastic explosive to walls. Serena tore off a large piece with her teeth and stuck the USB to a Covenant computer. "As long as it retains physical contact with any equipment linked to the mainframe, the USB will continue to deliver the command to keep the shields down."

Sure enough, we heard an electronic fizzle and a red light began flashing on one of the computer monitors, along with Covenant glyphs scrolling across the screen. "This is SMS Skull Four to all forces, we've got the shields offline. Begin attacks on the base." Serena bent back up and picked up a Carbine off the floor.

"Roger that, SMS Skull Four, All forces continue engagement. Penetrate the base and eradicate any Covenant presence within the surrounding 500 metres."

"Where do we go next?" I asked.

"We'd stay here; guard the USB until the others are through the barrier." said Cutter, slapping his M7/S into his thigh holster. We stood around the flash drive, doing nothing for ten or so minutes, until, one by one, the Micro MACs reported in. We headed out the way the SPARTAN came in, and conducted a sweep of the passageways around the control room.

Once or twice Brutes or Skirmishers jumped out at us, but they were quickly dispatched, either with a quick shot to the head by Serena or a blaze of bullets by the rest of us. "Looks like the entire second floor is clean. They must have all been sent out to fight on the streets or man the defences." mused Grafton.

"Serena, where are the defences?"

"Most of the Covenant weaponry is on the third floor. They consist of four mounted Plasma Cannons, twenty-something Plasma Turrets and four Fuel Rod Cannons. I'm showing at least ten Covenant for each Cannon, and up to eight Jackal snipers."

"Funny how they're named Jackals, 'cause they don't look anything like dogs." observed Morales.

"Whatever." muttered Grafton, as we headed carefully to the gravity lift that would bring us to the top. "How do we use this?" asked Harris, staring curiously at the glowing blue transparent cylinder of energy. Morales pulled off a tiny chunk of C7 and tossed it into the gravity stream. We watched the white-yellow plastic explosive float up through the roof. "I suppose we just walk into it." said Cutter.

Grafton nervously placed one leg inside the gravity stream, and suddenly got dragged into the air, foot in the air, head attempting the kiss the ground. "This sucks." he complained as he hit the ceiling, then was dragged upside down as his foot continued on its way. I heard a loud thunk, followed by a louder "Ouch."

Grafton's voice came down to us. "They haven't heard me. We come up just behind a set of Covenant weapon supply capsules. We planted our two feet firmly on the gravity stream and floated u. I frantically snatched a grenade that had floated out of its pocket. We were dumped gently next to Grafton, who was hunched over, taking a peek at the Covenant armour sitting on the roof taking pot shots at the MACs approaching below.

"Which one do we attack?" I asked.

"Left turret first," said Cutter, pointing a finger towards a plasma cannon booming away, then work our way right."

"Right." growled Grafton, and immediately broke cover and charged for the cannon.

"I haven't even said go yet." complained Cutter, getting up and firing down his sights at an Elite emptying its Carbine at the ODST sprinting for the cannon. The rest of the squad ran after the two leaders, I kicked an Elite down to the ground, fired my Plasma Repeater into his shields until they died, then killed the reptile by slashing my knife across his chest. "No time for long fights, just kill them quick!" yelled Harris as he flying kicked a Brute about to fire its Spiker and pumped his shotgun shell into a cluster of plasma batteries, smashing three Ultras into the air.

I slid under a Zealot's swipe, and kicked him between the legs on his way down, clearing the way for Serena following me up, who jumped onto its head and used it as a stepping0stone to propel herself over my head. She landed gracefully feet-first on a gold Elite charging towards me, depleting its shields and sending it to the purple metal floor. I stepped on its face as I ran past, knocking the beast out. Grafton was nearly at the base of the cannon- he grabbed a retreating Grunt and threw it into three Jackals huddling behind their shields.

Cutter danced between two rows of Covenant minor soldier's, his twin small knives glittering as he slashed through their ranks. Morales rolled behind a crate as plasma rippled above his head. A Brute roared as its armour was shredded apart by a shot form Harris. The animal galloped towards the soldier, but Harris calmly stood his ground, continuing his sprint, then at the last moment, pushed the Brute's head down, vaulted over the body and sent the Covenant soldier skidding unceremoniously to the ground. Grafton reached the base of the cannon; he swung himself up using the various valves and pipes on it as hand-holds, until he reached the top. The surprised Elite inside scrambled out of its cockpit as the ODST plopped a grenade onto the machinery that served as the barrel for the thing.

Grafton skidded down the purple turret as the cannon exploded, rolling neatly to a safe position as debris from the explosion rained down from us. "Next!" barked Cutter, running towards the AA turret spewing fuel rods into the air. "This is MAC Team One, we're inside, we're inside on level two, conducting sweep now."

"how many levels did we skip?" I panted as I dodged a swipe from an Elite hand. "Four, directly to the top." replied Serena.

"Damn." Plasma turrets swung towards us as the titular Grunts took notice. Plasma melted into my armour, and I took cover, rolling behind some supply capsules as the blue trails of energy followed me. I ran out of the turret's reach, and took the Grunt out with a precise shot from my M6D. Morales took advantage of the gun, shoving a Minor Elite out of the way as it tried to get to the turret, then pulled it off the gravity stream that kept it above the ground.

"Oof, this is heavy." he grunted as he started firing, holding back the wave of infantry running towards us. "Just keep that fire coming." commanded Cutter as he kicked an Elite in the chest, opening up the way for Grafton, who unsheathed his large Bowie knife, the dim rays of the sun glancing off the blade. He stabbed the Elite in the chest as it staggered back up, then withdrew his hand quickly before the swirling energy of the still-functioning shields burnt his arm.

Cutter slid underneath the three legs of the AA-Cannon, and stuck a Covenant Plasma Grenade to the glowing blue core. The cannon collapsed into rubble, and Harris used it as a makeshift ramp, leaping right over a small group of Skirmishers emptying their Needlers at us. Serena lobbed a frag grenade, landing it perfectly into the four bird-like creatures. Morales had a head start on the third cannon, and destroyed it the hard way, slapping half of his C7 on the side as he ran past, then pressed the trigger when he was a safe distance away. The turret blew apart, leaving just two Plasma Cannons.

We were making good headway on the third, and starting to get a little winded when six dark shapes floated up out of the gravity streams. They were hunched-over, sinister beings with twin spikes down their bent backs and toted a massive shield on their left arm, while their right carried what looked like a giant gun with green lights all over it. "Hunters!" screamed Serena, as they turned towards us and charged up their assault cannons.

"We officially have a problem." deadpanned Grafton as he took cover as the green beams lanced across the roof. Harris and Grafton both attacked the Hunters, which only seemed to enrage them. "Don't be stupid, soldiers! There's six, not two! Pull back!" commanded Cutter, but it was too late. One of the Hunters smashed Grafton in his face, sending the ODST flying into a pile of plasma batteries. Another one raised its foot and stamped on Harris, crushing the ODST into the metal roof.

"Damn it!" exclaimed Cutter.

"I'm going in to get Grafton and Harris." I declared with a sense of finality.

"Don't be stupid. They're gonna chew you up and force-feed you to Grunts." I ignored him and started running. "Damn it soldier, stop! Retreat! That is an order!"

"I know how to beat Hunters." I told Cutter my plan, and he gave consent with some reluctance.

I examined the position of the Hunters, their size and compared it with the surrounding environment. Perfect. I fired off a few rounds from my Plasma Repeater, attracting their attention, then threw the thing away. "That kid is crazy…" muttered Serena. Two of the Hunters broke off away from the main pack and charged towards me, assault cannons charging way too much. No kill like overkill. I waited until they stepped on the glass that made up the middle of the Covenant base, then watched the material weaken under their weight. I whipped out my pistol and fired a round into the glass. It shattered and the surprised alien colonies dropped into the room below.

I kicked two of the plasma batteries used to power the Plasma Cannons into the hole. Usually batteries don't do much against Hunters, but these were ammunition for cannons designed to wipe out Scorpions. Two massive blue clouds of plasma vapour erupted from the hole, and I took a step back as they soared into the sky. The building remained undamaged, apart from a bit of melting and burning from the plasma.

I had no doubt that the two Hunters were dead, though. The other Hunters turned from their attack and saw what had happened. They began to advance towards me. I did a quick check on Grafton. He was lying unconscious on the ground, but he was still breathing and his heart was pumping strongly. I snatched his grenade launcher and some ammunition. To look at Harris though, I had to get past the Hunters.

Cutter, Serena and Morales jumped into action. They popped out from their hiding place, crept up to one of the plasma cannons, and killed the gunner. I kept my eyes between the four Hunters and the cannon swivelling towards us. The Hunters prepared to fire, and I backed away, and Serena opened fire with the cannon. A white hot plasma bomb arced across the sky, smashing into the Hunters, and I took off while they staggered across the curved roof, their shields glowing red.

I reach Harris, checked him. He was conscious, and groaning. "I got a coupla broken ribs." he moaned. "Don't move. I'll deal with the Hunters." I scooped up the grenade launcher, faced the Hunters, and broke into a sprint. The first Hunter swiped at me, I fired a grenade into his chest, and ducked behind his lower half as his team-mate opened fire to where I was just a moment ago, vaporising the bits of worm that flew through the air.

I charged towards the next target, and when the Hunter raised its shield in defence, I threw the gun into the air, leapt up onto the tilted blue shield, pulling out another grenade from my belt as I did so. I bounced into the air using the Hunter' head as a stepping stone, pushing it down with a startled snort. I grabbed the gun spiralling above us and snapped it open. I slid to a halt, plopping the second grenade into the break-action rifle.

The Hunter whirled to face me, and I fired the gun into the exposed area between the shoulder plates and the leg armour. Serena fired again, but the aliens blocked the shot and retaliated with a single stream of plasma that streaked towards the turret. Serena jumped out and ran to safety, while I placed another grenade into the launcher. The next Hunter got me with a nick, sending me spinning towards Harris.

I skidded to a halt next to the ODST and grabbed his shotgun, noting the ten shells left in the magazine. With a shotgun in my left hand and a grenade launcher in my right, I turned to face the last two Hunters. They charged. I ran. The first alien raised its twin hands for a smash, and I fired the shotgun into its face, stopping the attack and stunning it. I slid under the giant colony of worms and threw the shotgun in the air.

The Hunter charged its cannon. I caught the shotgun by the pump and pumped it as it fell back down towards me, then flicked it over my elbow and grabbed the trigger. I blasted the shell into the Covenant assault cannon, and took an immediate step back as it overloaded and exploded, depriving the Hunter of its right arm. The Hunter roared with anger and tried to trample me, only for me sidestep and place a grenade in between its two shoulders.

I turned to face the final enraged being before the body hit the cold metal roof, and charged. The Hunter had adapted a more defensive stance, once again placing its shield before its body and charging its cannon behind it. I threw the shotgun, rolled under the deadly green beams of the Hunter's cannon, saw the gun coming back down to earth, threw my grenade launcher, caught the shotgun and pumped it before transferring the gun to my left hand.

The Hunter reared up for its trademark melee attack, allowing me to fire the shotgun into the vulnerable stomach of the creature. I slid under it as the Hunter staggered backwards, caught the grenade launcher, threw the shotgun and loaded the explosive. The Hunter charged with a quaking growl, and I fired the grenade. It exploded a metre in front of the massive creature, finishing it off for good.

I caught the shotgun and went to examine Grafton and Harris as the last Hunter fell.


	6. Scarab

Serena applied a field dressing of bio-crete to Harris' stomach. The polar opposite of Bio-Foam, which was used to plug holes in flesh, this was to crudely yet effectively set one's bone in shape and keep them that way until proper medical attention could be found. Harris grunted as the quick setting white plaster wormed its way into his skin, soaking through it as nano-machines inside the gloopy liquid activated and fused his broken bones together and in their proper shape.

The ODST got up and I handed him his shotgun. "Thanks. What happened to the Hunters?"

"Dead." said Morales.

"Who killed them?"

"He did." said Cutter, pointing at me.

"Oh. All of them?"

"All of them. With a little bit of help from us. Hell, I didn't know you could dual-wield shotguns and grenade launchers."

"You dual-wielded-"

" Can we get over it now and see to Grafton?" I demanded, getting annoyed and embarrassed at all the talk about me. "Right. Of course." The squad made its way over to the slumped-over ODST, then Serena removed his helmet and examined the place where the Hunter had swiped at him. "Nothing there. His helmet took the brunt of the attack. He's probably got a good dose of concussion, I can get that off him right now."

The girl attached a medi-kit onto the fallen soldier's head, and it beeped green as it sorted out the neuron networks affected by the impact. It flashed red, indicating that its job had been completed, and Serena took it off him and put it in her medical supplies. Extracting a needle filled by clear blue liquid from the same pack, she stuffed the thing back inside her backpack.

"This is Anadrin, a drug only used by SMS Skull forces." she explained as she rubbed Grafton's arm with an alcoholic disinfectant, then jabbed the needle into him. With a pneumatic hiss, the stuff was injected, and Serena extracted the needle, which automatically ejected the spent casing of Anadrin and began a self-cleaning process. "It delivers a strong dose of anti-venom and adrenaline encased in balls of thin gold membrane that dissolve within five seconds when they meet blood."

Grafton blasted to his feet, yelling a startled yelp. "After two seconds from initial contact, the adrenaline dies down, due to nano-explosives inside the molecules, though the anti-venom still circulates through the bloodstream." Grafton glared at Serena suspiciously. "Did you just use me as a test subject?"

'No." she threw him his helmet. "And before you ask, he killed the Hunters and he's damn touchy about that." droned Morales.

"All six of them?"

"Dual-wielding grenade launcher and shotgun. Badass." said Serena. I walked away from the group and prayed that something would save me. It did. "All forces are in the building, we are in the base. We've managed to corner the rest of the Covenant at the far left side of the base, but they're giving us a hell of a time- Shit! Hunters! Incoming!"

"Grafton, Harris, that was foolish." reprimanded Cutter gravely. "Grafton, you took down two. That doesn't mean you can kill six in a group. Harris, I don't know what you were thinking."

There was an eerie blue mist starting to settle over the base, and my tongue started to taste metallic. "Wonder what's with this?" I muttered to myself.

The lecture droned on boringly for a minute, until Serena said quietly, "Uh, guys?"

We all looked up. A Covenant cruiser boosted out of Slipspace, dissipating the blue mist and creating a massive electrical storm that flashed and boomed above our heads and rumbled overhead, covering us with its shadow. "What?" yelled Cutter over the shaking ground. "Look under it, near the end." directed Serena, plugging two fingers in her ears. I zoomed in my helmet's internal binoculars with a barely audible voice command, and looked. An insect-like robotic machine was suspended under the cruiser's tail, legs curled up against its body. "Is that a…" started Harris.

"Scarab! Scarab! All forces, leave the Covenant, back to the Micro MACs! Prepare to engage! This is Diamoria to HQ, come in!" shouted a hoarse voice over the pops and squeals of the radio.

"HQ to Diamoria, what is your status?"

"We've got a Scarab about to drop on us and rip us to pieces. I've got the troopers moving towards the Micro MACs to engage it, requesting further instructions."

'Roger hat Diamoria, stand-by….." The calm, controlled voice over the radio went away, and after ten seconds came back.

"HQ to Diamoria, come in."

"Diamoria reading strength five."

"Orders are to engage Scarab and destroy, leaving two units here, then come back for the base when you're finished. Sending micro-briefing to you now." Serena's pad beeped as it leeched the information off the airwaves. She put it on the roof and we huddled around it. The Scarab was projected to drop in two minutes at the far end of the city, to crush a Micro MAC unit trying to cut off something classified. From there it was predicted it would travel in a straight line to our location, and seemingly destroy us.

Airdrop information rolled in from the top of the screen. All our units would receive a delivery of heavy weapons, but the Special Forces units would be receiving something known as the 'CEREBUS ultra-heavy assault cannon.'

"What's a CEREBUS?" asked Harris.

'When do we get the drops?" asked Cutter. Serena pointed to a cluster of blue arrows swarming towards our location. The ground trembled as the huge Covenant mining vehicle hit the ground and activated. Four legs folded out of the elliptical purple and silver body, the delicate head opened its protective cover, and the powerful anti-air plasma cannon at the back of the Scarab rose up out of its housing on the third level. The behemoth rose to its feet with a distinctive groan of machinery, and shifted its attention to the Micro MAC abandoned at its feet. We turned our backs to it and waited for our airdrop. A minute later, a Pelican, bristling with rockets and guns, thundered overhead, dropping a white bundle out of its open troop bay, then, without another second, roared off to join a swarm of aircraft heading out to the Scarab.

The package hit the ground with a thump, and we hurried over to it. It was about one and a half metres long, and was wrapped in protective white foam. Grafton sliced the foam away using his knife, and we saw a grey metal rectangular case. "Why do we have to be so protective of this?" asked Morales. Cutter lifted it open, and inside lay the weapon.

It was almost as big as the case itself and was painted a metallic green. Two mandibles at the business end of the gun stretched out twenty centimetres from the main body, which contained a slot for some kind of barrel or whatnot. Just behind it lay another empty slot in the body, with twin racks on either side of the hole. A holder was protruding neatly in the middle of the gun, with another deployable button, presumably to fire the weapon. The butt was comprised of a detachable battery.

Two clear canisters of pulsing red liquid lay nestled in the black velvet under the gun, as well as a mirror like lens with two additional glass focusers in the same slot. Cutter read the directions at the top of the case, then said, "Help me assemble this thing." We crouched around the platform, snapping the pieces together, watching the weapon come to life.

The lens clicked into place in the barrels. The two focuser lenses were attached to the arms, and the clear cylinder of liquid snapped into place in the middle of the gun. A cube-like battery was placed on the swinging hinge lid of the butt, then was snapped into place. "Done!" yelled Cutter, examining the weapon. "Who's gonna be using it?" asked Harris.

"Serena or him." answered Grafton.

"I'm not firing that thing." said Serena as she glanced nervously at the weapon lying in the case. "Fine. Get over here and prepare to shoot." said Cutter, glancing at the instructions.

"The non-linear GAVIC diethyl ether system, designed to operate from the CEREBUS platform, is an extremely powerful anti-vehicle destruction unit. It fires a stream of highly concentrated diethyl ether in a straight line over an effective distance of three kilometres. This laser system is very easy to operate. Press the power button located on the side of the deployable trigger. Once the weapon is activated, use the screen to aim and fire. Once impact is achieved, the target's surface will be subjected to temperatures higher that 2000 degrees Celsius, resulting in instant vaporisation of organic material and severe buckling and stresses on even the most heat-resilient materials, plus an additional 58Gs of kinetic force."

"Sounds dangerous." I said, poking the weapon.

"Take care to not damage the lens in any way, as any scratches of the glass will result in either a fatal backfire of the weapon, or the laser may fire in an unintended direction. However, damage to the focus lenses will merely damage the weapon's accuracy and range. This weapon is intended to be used for medium-range fire-support for UNSC troops. Upon acquiring this weapon, we will most likely receive firing directions from a separate unit." finished Cutter, putting the piece of paper down.  
"Well, we're ready to shoot. SMS Skull Four to SMS Command, we've acquired a GAVIC CEREBUS unit, requesting orders."

"Standby, Skull Four-One… Orders are to assist the UNSC main force in eliminating the Scarab. We have organised a specific radio channel for you, push frequency Lima-Two-Niner now."

"Roger." We set our radios to the correct frequency, then Cutter broadcast, "SMS Skull Four Team reporting in, no causalities sustained. Orders are to provide fire support for the UNSC Force attacking the Scarab."

"Roger, Skull Four. This is Major Wallace of the 48th Armoured Platoon. We're set to engage the Scarab, ETA 3 minutes. You have a CEREBUS unit, right?"

"Correct."

"Move closer. I want you above the Scarab when we engage."

"Roger." Cutter cut the connection, then looked at the weapon again. Each canister had a piece of paper stuck to it. "4 DISCHARGES ONLY" it read. I sighed and lifted the heavy CEREBUS out of its case. I put it on the ground and waited for the commands to come in. The Scarab in the distance continued to wreak havoc in the city, pounding away towards us, each leg producing a massive thump on the ground.

Radio chatter erupted on the radio. "Stations, Ready!"  
"Ready!"

"Fire!"

"Let's go." grunted Cutter, picking himself up and starting to walk back to the gravity lift. We hurried down to the vehicle hangar only to find our tank gone. "Some of the other marines must have taken it." proposed Serena. "Shit. Can anyone find a Ghost or something?"

We dashed through the bay, examining and trying out the Covenant vehicles. We managed to scavenge a working Ghost, a damaged Sceptre and an untouched Wraith. "Dump the Wraith. We'll go in the Sceptre." commanded Cutter. We scrambled into the vehicle and again Harris took the wheel. Or motorcycle bars.

"Okay. We set?" asked Cutter, slamming a new clip into his SMG. Everyone nodded silently. "Move out." Harris revved out the spluttering engine, and we whirred off down the highway. We cruised smoothly through the darkened streets until we neared the fighting. The Scarab was carelessly smashing towering skyscrapers into rubble, shaking off two metre thick pieces tumbling from the sky as if they were raindrops.

Morales blew open the door with the one of the last pieces of C7, and we scrambled inside. "Can we take the stairs?' asked Grafton. "It'll be quicker if we bring up the secondary generator for this building, if it's not destroyed, and use it to power up a lift what will take us to the roof." said Serena, looking around the dark corridor. The ground shook as the Scarab stomped on the ground again. "Let's hurry, before it gets to us." said Cutter, running down the hallway and bashing through a door to the basement. We took the steps four at a time as we descended into the bowels of the building. "Secondary generator should be clearly marked." Serena mused as she watched our helmet mounted flashlights probe the room. "There!" Harris shone his helmet at a silver beast firmly clamped to the floor. Serena immediately took out her pad, then scanned the generators. "We'll need power for a residual charge to get this thing up and running.

"Will this stuff do?" I asked, holding up the second canister from the case."

"Worth a try. What is it?" she asked.

"Diethyl ether."

"It might work, if it's electrically charged." she said. She made a small hole in the top of the canister, and we instantly took a step back as the heat suddenly turned up several degrees. A red mist was slowly wafting out of the tiny incision. "Get it done and sealed, fast." commanded Cutter.

Serena extended a tiny eyedropper into the hole and extracted some of the liquid, then spread it gently onto the surface of the generator. Morales produced two wires, and she opened up a panel on the side, and placed the uncovered tips of the metal hairs onto the steaming liquid and onto the dead battery of the generator, detaching the two large positive and negative clamps and replacing them with the wires.

"Here we go." she breathed as she extended a tiny device from her pad with a tap. She pressed the screen, and a small charge of sparks fired out from the protruding gun-like equipment. The generator surged into life, humming healthily while the wires sparked and fizzled, and the liquid fired short discharges of electricity from its red steaming surface. Morales sealed the hole in the canister with a spread of duct tape, and we high-tailed out of the room, and jumped into a lift as the lights flickered back on.

The lift rocketed us straight up, where we burst into daylight, and beheld the Scarab just noticing the Micro MAC forces coming up behind it. "Shit." Go faster!" yelled Harris. The lift eventually deposited us at the top of the building, a gusty location totally devoid of any cover, except for the small equipment shack at the right hand side of the square concrete roof. We were just above the Scarab's second floor. "Get that cannon up and running." commanded Cutter, running across to the end of the building.

"Coming, coming."

"This is SMS Skull Four, we are in position. We have got the CEREBUS unit and are ready to fire." he radioed as I came up alongside him and crouched down, lifting the heavy weapon up to eye level. "Just give the word."

"Roger, SMS Skull Four. We are about to engage the- Crap! incoming!" The Scarab fired its plasma weapon at a sky scraper, sending it toppling over, but in the wrong direction. I pressed the power button at the side of the CEREBUS, and the laser came to life. a hand-grip and trigger combination slid out of the device, along with a small LED screen with an aiming reticule super imposed on the area I was looking at. "Sweet."

A ready indicator blinked on the screen, and I centred my scope on the Scarab. "Okay, Diamoria here, fire at one of the Scarab's legs, bring it down for us!" I scrolled down and waited for the Scarab to stop its stamping, the pressed the right trigger. The weapon began to shake in my hands, red steam began to vent from an opened hole at the top of the weapon, and suddenly a blue-white laser pulsed out of the laser and carved right through the building next to us, hitting he Scarab's front leg!

"Shit. She's hard to aim." I looked at the screen. A 'Cooling…' was blinking in the corner as more mist floated out from the air vent. The Scarab collapsed onto its three remaining legs, and uttered a metallic moan. "Good hit, good hit! Nice shot, Skull Four!" shouted the commander excitedly on the radio. The Scarab stumbled forward, crushing two Warthogs milling around its front legs, then was forced to all fours as a Scorpion fired its main cannon. "Go! Get on that thing!" Mongooses exploded out of the Elephants, little engines buzzing, eight in total. They swarmed past the Scarab's defences and disappeared into the troop bay.

"Green Six here, we're inside the Scarab and engaging heavy Covenant resistance. Shit- Hunters?" The Scarab shook as he Scorpions continued firing upon it, then got its AA cannon online and fired a brace of rounds into the ground, covering four Scorpions in a cloud of dust. "Skull Four! Destroy that cannon!" I pulled the sights into focus, then aimed at the rotating cannon. I pressed firmly on the trigger, and the recoil sent me stumbling backwards. The AA Cannon buckled as the laser smashed into it, shearing clean through the hardened purple metal and across the city.

"Cannon is disabled!" barked a voice over the radio. "All forces continue to engage!" The Scarab struggled back to its feet as the many Lekgolo worms finished their instant repairs and re-established working order to the limb. The green plasma beam at the front of the Scarab's head glowed bright green, then fired a long stream of super-charged energy, sweeping the Elephants clustered around it, then instantly snapped shut its protective lenses as the Elephants returned fire with their Micro-MACs, the white trails of the giant shells glancing off the thick armour that guarded its delicate mechanisms.

"This is Green One, we're on the second floor now and losses are at thirty percent."

"Roger. Continue to engage." The radio hissed off as I glanced and noted the one shot left in the canister, which was now a dull swirling maroon. The Scarab whirled around as it finally found the source of the attacks. "Oh crap."

The green plasma beam began to charge with a high-pitched whine. "Get down! Get out of here!" Cutter herded us and across the roof as the green laser fired, crashing into the building and advancing towards us as the building began to crumble. "Shit!" yelled Harris. "The stairway's gonna be too long to take!" Grafton emerged from the small shack on the far left corner of the roof as the building continued to crumble, girders groaning.

"Catch!" he yelled, throwing us each a white leather bag. "Parachutes!" he explained as he dashed towards to edge of the building, as the rest of us took our sweet time comprehending what 'parachute' meant.

"Parachutes!" I repeated as my brain clicked into gear, and I charged down the remaining roof, strapping on the bulky pack as I went, and followed Grafton as his head disappeared below the concrete. I could see out of the corner of my eyes the rest of the squad sprinting after me, then I realised that I was falling through the air, and I adopted a free-fall technique, placing both hands away from my body and angling my knees forward. The altitude limiter automatically deployed the drogue chute, which in turn yanked out the main piece of cloth with a ripping sound. Two handles extended out of the bulky metal squares on the shoulder straps, locking my body safely in place, and a small control bar unhinged itself from above me and clattered down, giving me a means of controlling my descent.

I shifted my weight to the left, dodging bits of burning debris as they rained down on me, bouncing off the fire-proof linen of the parachute and my helmet. I pushed some more, and nudged the device around in a spiral as the building behind me collapsed.


	7. A Break

I released my chute breakers a metre from the ground and dropped to the hard asphalt on all fours three metres away from Grafton, who had not cut off his parachute and was still disentangling himself from the cords wrapped around him. I could see the battered top of the Scarab turning around and the ground shook as it stomped and roared.

"Where's the CEREBUS?" asked Cuter as he floated down beside me. "I dumped it when the building started to fall." I replied sheepishly. "…Good work. I would have done the same." said Cutter, drawing out his side arm. "Does anyone still have their primary weapon?" asked Cutter.

No-one answered. "Well, first things first. Let's go get some."

"From where?"

"The Covies." We walked around the corner and sneaked a peek. "The only way we can get some goods is from the Scarab." deduced Cutter. "We're gonna have to board it."

Precisely on time, the radios blared. "This is Green Eight! Is this thing working? The Covies ambushed us, I'm the only one left- They're-they're closing in! Gah!"

"Shit. Any more units available for boarding action?"

"This is SMS Skull Four. We're boarding now."

"Skull Four?" I thought-" Cutter manually deactivated the radios and jammed a new clip into his M6D. "Gentlemen, move." We dashed across the street and hid behind an overturned incinerator. "How are we going to get in that thing?" asked Serena, blonde hair flicking back showing her other green eye as she tossed it. "All units, can we get the Scarab on the ground, please?" replied Cutter.

"Roger, Skull Four. All units fire at the damaged legs!" A new salvo of shells was launched, crunching into the already damaged left leg. "Again!" more shells streaked through the air, peppering the armour with explosions. Once again the limb failed, and the Scarab knelt down to begin repairs. We charged out and jumped into the massive troop bay, filled with the bodies of dead Marines and Covenant.

Serena bent and picked up a Carbine from the hands of a dead Elite. Grafton scavenged a Focus Rifle, Morales a Needle Rifle, Harris a Plasma Repeater, and Cutter a single Fuel Rod Gun, lying untouched on a rack. Pressing his shoulder against the fail-safe trigger, he pointed towards the blown-open chamber before us. I found another Carbine, scavenged some ammunition for it and stepped into the charred and blacked chamber, over the bodies of human and aliens lying sprawled on the ground. A Brute clutched at my leg as I stepped over it, and drew out a long sharp blade from its belt, snarling.

"Shit! Some are still alive!" I shouted as I beat down the ape-like beast with the butt of my weapon. I only had fourteen rounds left in the magazine, with another two clips ready to go. More Brutes and Elites got to their feet, most badly wounded, but some were near- unscathed. Grafton fired his Focus Rifle, the purple-orange beam blasted into an Elite's chest shields before he had a chance to react. The alien scrabbled at its chest as Grafton flicked the gun into full power and burned a hole through the blue chest armour and sent the alien smacking into the wall.

Harris's Plasma Repeater flashed white, chewing into the unprotected wounded Elites, knocking them over and making sure they would stay dead. Serena and I stood side by side and fired our Carbines, the ghostly green trails of mist trailing straight paths through the air as the green projectiles carved into the Elite's and Brute's bodies. I knocked Serena to the ground as an Elite Major fired twin Plasma Rifles at her, letting my armour absorb the heat.

"Thanks." she mumbled, as we stumbled back up and I drove my fist in a powerful uppercut into the Major's chest, burning through his little shields he had left and impacting with a dull thud, sending the Major up into the air, and Serena finished him off with a single round to his head. We dispatched the last of the aliens converging on us and stood together in the centre of the chamber. "Up ahead is the spot where Green Six gave his last radio transmission. Be careful." warned Cutter.

'I've got a better idea." declared Morales, producing a couple of frag grenades from his pants as well as some C7. Wrapping the C7 around the grenades, he pulled the pins and tossed them through the doorway. A Hunter gave a startled grunt, Elites barked a warning, then the open doorway shook and emitted a massive stream of flame and heat as the six grenades, supercharged with C7, exploded. As soon as the fire died down, we were through the doorway, guns blazing.

Most of the survivors were heaped in a corner, stunned and burned. Cutter fired a single round from his fuel rod gun into the group. A green explosion billowed out as the seven or so Covenant disappeared into a fine mist. Cutter led us all up the final doors, out into the open sides of the Scarab. We climbed a set of stairs and ended up under the crippled AA gun of the Scarab. The Covenant beast fired its plasma beam, swiping it across the city, demolishing the dark buildings towering above us.

Cutter herded us all in, and we stood in front of the glowing blue core. "Morales, how much C7 you got left?"

"Just enough." The big ODST got to work, his trained hands squashing the white-yellow gum-like material into the right places. He attached his last timer to the protective shield and pressed a button, setting it to thirty seconds. Cutter pushed us all out. "Everyone off the Scarab! Go!" Morales pressed the button with a bleep, and he ran out after us.

The Scarab, oblivious to impending destruction continued to engage the UNSC forces. "There's our chance." said Cutter, pointing towards a low building just lower than the Scarab's third floor. The monster stomped past the building, and Cutter pushed us all over, pulling Morales down with him as he hurled the soldier after us, then jumped after the squad. We hit the concrete with a collective thud. Morales looked up, then rolled out of the way as Cutter crashed to earth with a clang.

The captain stood up. He wasn't done yet. "All forces, retreat! The Scarab's gonna blow!"

"Roger, Skull Four! Engines, full ahead, get out of here!"

The Scorpions reversed, while the Mongooses, Warthogs and Elephants rumbled forward, passing underneath the Scarab as it stomped around. The Elephants were half-way under the Scarab when Morales's charge blew. There was a dull thump, then two seconds of silence as the Scarab's core began to spin out of control without the Lekgolo-controlled limiters. "All units, go, go, go!" The Elephants roared out from under the purple insect-like robot as the first ripples of energy exploded down its legs. They UNSC forces advanced down the street, speeding away from the Scarab as it stopped involuntarily as more blue plasma leaks sprang out of the joints connecting the legs to the body. It spun around seemingly in pain as explosions raced up and down its spine, and attempted to fire its plasma beam one more time before the core reactor reached red-lining temperatures and surpassed it, venting steam and finally collecting enough energy to punch its way out of the centre of the assault platform and race away through the city in a massive blue shockwave that shook the building, as the Scarab exploded, sending giant pieces of metal spinning into the air.

We slid off the building's glass slope and landed roughly on our feet after a two metre drop. "Nice work, Skull Four. We're gonna have to go back for the base now."

I let out a deep, exasperated sigh. "No more, please." Cutter placed a friendly hand on my shoulder and yanked my back straight. After this, I'll give you a rub, okay?"

"…No thanks."

We hitched a ride in one of the Elephants and I dozed off as we crawled our way back towards the smoking Covenant base. Grafton bashed my helmet with the butt of his needle rifle when we were there. "Why couldn't Serena have woken me up?" I complained loudly. She conked me on the helmet. "Better?"

"Better." I groused. We trudged up to the base and dumped our gear inside the vehicle bay. I stripped off my helmet and breathed in the unfiltered dusty air. "What happens now?" I asked.

"The techies are gonna download all the files on the computers to their database, and we're gonna blow the joint after we finished. Then the UNSC is gonna set this city as their primary frontline base for the defence of the last colonies to be evacuated." I looked under the pile of bodies I had pulled over my rifle. I yanked it out with some difficulty and rubbed a gloved hand over the blood-smeared sights. "What are we gonna do now?" I continued.

"I guess we've got these few days off until the UNSC gets things set up." To prove his point, the Covenant's intercom system crackled t life, and Colonel Hood started to speak. "Soldiers of the 401st Combat Army! I congratulate you on your victory! The next few days are yours free to roam the city of Manassas. Feel free to open fire on any more Covenant forces still in the city. If you find yourself outgunned, do not hesitate to call for support. If you have no supplies on your team, we will be shipping food and other items in a few hours, if you manage to find something of better quality in the city, go ahead and use its resources. That will be all."

"Well then, a holiday in this hell-hole?" complained Grafton, removing his helmet and revealing his scarred face and buzz-cut yellow hair. He rolled his steely blue-grey eyes and turned his back to the screen. "We might find a posh restaurant to ransack." I pointed out.

"Whatever."

"What supplies do we have?" asked Cutter.

We ran a quick inventory. All together we had enough food to supply us for three days, water for four days, tents, personal heaters, a little bit of ammunition for our weapons, and a radio tuned to public UNSC radio frequencies. "We'll collect some ammunition for our weapons." directed Cutter, so we sat around for two hours until six Pelicans loaded with massive supply crates drifted in and dumped their cargo on the highway. We waited around until the crowds had died down, then went over to inspect what was left. I pulled out a half-load of 30mm shells from the near-empty rack and selected one 5mm light machinegun magazine, stuffing them into one of the empty positions on my utility belt. Cutter waved us all over. "Where do you want to go?"

"… I don't think any of us know Manassas." said Harris pointedly.

"Well then, we could just wander around until something interesting happens…" mumbled Cutter, thinking.

"I vote we break into an apartment and stay there." I declared.

"That's actually quite logical." said Harris. Nobody said anything else, so Cutter shrugged and led us into the empty grey city. We passed numerous apartments before randomly choosing one and having Morales crack open the door with a small bubble-gum sized wad of C7. Cutter peeled the two sliding doors open and we stepped through into a large lobby. "We got any power in here?" asked Harris.

"I'll go get the secondary generator up." muttered Serena, glancing around then disappearing down a small passage marked, "authorised personnel only". A few minutes later the lights flickered on, illuminating the foyer in a warm yellow glow. Serena pressed for a lift, and we rode up to the sixth floor. The lift pinged happily, and we were in a narrow carpeted hallway, the ceiling lights crackling to life, revealing brightly coloured paintings.

Cutter tried a door. "C7, please." Morales produced a small wad and again knocked the door down. "Damn, it's cold in here." shivered Grafton. I looked around and found a small personal control unit and turned the internal heater up. Harris put the door back in its frame and wedged it in place. The rest of us each claimed a separate space to sleep for the night, ransacking the deserted home for towels and toiletries. "I'm hungry." declared Morales, rubbing his stomach heartily and searching in the cupboards.

"If there's fresh food that hasn't gone bad, I can try to fire up the gas stove." suggested Serena. Cutter nodded. "That would be good."

Grafton and Serena headed down in the lift while the rest of us either shaved using the past inhabitant's stuff, made our beds, or searched through the apartment for something interesting. Serena came back ten minutes later and triumphantly worked the gas stove to life. We had found some unspoiled potatoes, four carrots, a few limp greens and some other vegetables. Cutter threw them into a pot with some strong pinches of salt and water and simmered them while the rest of us chatted.

Grafton had come from a small farming family on Harvest. They were safely evacuated to Mars when the humans had first made contact with the Covenant. Of course Harvest was now a burning charred hellhole smouldering in space. They were now living in a refugee camp while he ran away and joined the army to fight back. He had fought with three squads and earned his reputation in Operation: PROMETHEUS when his combat success ratio surpassed that some SPARTAN-IIIs.

Serena grew up an orphan on the streets of Ether, a city on the Atlas Moons colonies. She had made a living with the street gangs that roamed the alleys of the city, earning a reputation with her way with machinery and electronics. Then the police had stormed their hideout one day and taken everyone prisoner. After recognising her skills in untrained combat, they forcibly enlisted her in the Marines, where she demonstrated her even better long-range accuracy. She then served with one battle-worn squad throughout the Siege of the Atlas Moons, then to the Battle of Kholo and finally was deployed to the Siege of Paris IV, where Strategic Military Services noticed her skill and approached her with an offer for a place in one of their elite Skull Squads.

I spoke for both Morales and Harris, who were both mucking about downstairs. "I'm from Sigma Octanus III. My father was a chef, my mother an accountant. They're still living there today. I joined the Marines about three years ago, just in time for the Covenant to appear over Harvest. We got sent there after a month of training, lost, pulled back, went onto the battle for Arcadia, got an offer to be an ODST, accepted, did some quiet combat, nothing special with Dash Team, but SMS noticed me, gave me an offer, but I declined. Of course, Dash got wiped out, so I accepted the offer."

"What about Morales?" asked Cutter, stirring the simmering broth. "He's from Mars." I began. "I don't know much about his family," but his father was a boxer. He ran away from home when he was six, lived in two homes, then signed up for Marine duty. We were grouped together for training, and I guess it was just luck that we were sent to Dash Team."

"Harris?"

"Nobody knows anything about Harris. You're better off asking him yourself, but I can guarantee that he won't give anything."

"Right." Cutter took the soup off the stove and ladled out hearty spoonfuls for everyone. "Someone get Morales and Harris back up, their dinner's going to get cold." Serena called them on her radio, and they were up in ten seconds flat. The soup wasn't exactly what my mother used to brew, but it was hot and tasted better than the synthesized stuff we found and leaned to hate in MREs. "Good." mumbled Morales simply through a mouthful. "A captain's got to know how to feed his men." replied Cutter, draining his bowl and going back for another helping.

Our stomachs happily full with warm liquid, we settled down for the night, reading some very old paper books under some white blankets Harris brought in from the master bedroom. For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to fully relax. A pinhead-sized cluster of cells in my brain finally emerged from their suppression by adrenaline, and triggered by the daily build-up of chemicals, released a signal to stop the production, and histamine immediately stopped churning out of my brain.

I drifted into a swaying sea of dreams as my cortex began to assimilate everything it had learned that day into long-term memory. REM sleep left me, and I wandered into fully deep sleep. Time passed. I woke up late, sitting up and yawning. Serena, Morales and Cutter were still in bed, the girl turning over in her makeshift bed with a stifled sigh. Harris and Grafton were nowhere to be found.

I got up and wondered if the plumbing was still working. It was, and there was a relatively large supply of heated water stored inside the building by the workings of the secondary generator as it siphoned power off the damaged city mainframe. I took a shower and got dressed in my combat gear.

The balcony used to overlook a park, with two large ponds and a playground. Of course it had been glassed, turned into a filmy transparent material that coated the surface and encrusted the buildings in the park. I turned my back to the dismal grey city beyond, smoking miserably, with occasional explosions as gas pipes reacted badly to being cracked open by plasma.

It was bad enough to be like a zombie movie. I smiled wryly. At least there wouldn't be any zombies here for a while yet. I made my way back to the kitchen and searched through the refrigerator. There was a bowl of Cutter's soup, cling-wrapped, some cheese about to go mouldy, a side of meat I didn't want to touch, and some other assorted food items. My mind wandered back to the old recipes my father had shown me. "I wonder…" I muttered to myself as I pulled some eggs out of a rack and threw them into a bowl of water sitting conveniently on the marble counter. They sank. Still edible.

I ransacked the pantry for food, then came back with armloads of sausage and tomato. "Need some potato." I declared, probably looking like a crazy French chef about to serve some food critics. I looked through the kitchen, my searches fruitless, then I spotted Morales's C7 ball on the coffee table. I ripped a chunk off and snatched a lighter off the same table. Grabbing an electrical bill off the counter as I bustled out the door, I chose a home at random and wedged the C7 into the lock. I twisted the paper into a thin strip and stuck it in, then lit the end with the lighter. The door blew open with a crack, and I found some of the stuff I needed.

Taking the food back, I lay them all on the table and examined my collection. "Wonder if the oven's on." I mumbled as I flipped the switch. It was working. I diced everything up, split them into six separate piles, poured some water in and wrapped each of them in aluminium foil. I shoved them into the oven, dialled in ten minutes and field-stripped the SRS99 Custom. Serena awoke to the continuous scraping when I sanded the rifle-bore barrel of the 30mm.

"What's cooking?" she drawled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Hobo dinners." I answered, a smile playing around my lips. She didn't reply, and instead heaved herself out of bed and went into the bathroom. "Shower's online." I called.

"Right." The door slammed and clicked, and the drumbeat of water started a few seconds later. This was just like camp in high school. I continued to maintain my rifle, polishing the scope until it gleamed, then I moved on to rub some of the stabilisation gel on the 20mm shells, coating each bullet with another thin layer, not too much so it would affect the bullet's weight and trajectory, but just enough so the bullet broke smoothly out of its sabot and fired in a dead straight line. All sniper rifle bullets had a layer already coated, but I preferred to manually care for mine, just for the extra satisfaction to when I put a round between a Brute's eyes. It also worked wonders for the ultra-long distance shots, providing twice as much accuracy when you fired.

The shells properly cleansed, I was about to replace the small tin that contained the waxy white plastic gel when Serena came out of the shower. "What's that?"

'Some stabilisation gel."

"Why? I though the shells already-"

"I'll show you." I assembled the sniper rifle, and led her out to the balcony. I raised the scope, and found a suitable shot. "I bet you I can knock out that window, eighth floor up, ninth from the right, that one over there." She followed my line of vision.

"Impossible. Not with your scope." I fired, and there was a soft tinkle.

"Done."

"…Wow. It's the gel, right?"

"Twice the range. Here, I'll show you how you use it."

She stared at me with her one visible green eye. "Don't you need some kind of customisation?"

"Don't think so." Sitting back down, I showed her how to delicately smooth a fingernail's worth of gel over the existing one without ruining the first layer. "Look at the two lovebirds." smirked Cutter. We both jumped. "It-uh, we-gel, um, glass!" blurted Serena

"Jokes, don't worry. You're a dedicated man, I can see that." said Cutter, nodding at me. "By the way," he added, "What is that cooking?"

"It's breakfast, and the showers are working and free." I said, changing the subject quickly.

"Ah, excellent!" Cutter exclaimed, rubbing his hands with anticipation. The oven bleeped, and as Cutter marched off to get his much anticipated cleaning, I turned the device off and extracted the six steaming squares. "Leave it to cool for a bit." I told Serena, who had now returned to cleaning the bullets. The lift pinged, and everyone stopped. I drew my M6D. Harris and Grafton came down the hallway. "You can never be too careful, eh?" said Grafton, eyeing the pistol I still held. I pocketed it. "We're still in a hostile situation here." I answered.

The ODST patted my shoulder and pushed his way past. Harris just nodded and followed Grafton. "Oh, and by the way, we ran into a Covie patrol on our stroll- Serena, what are you doing?" Morales got out of bed with a grunt. "My head hurts." He growled as he rubbed the stubble starting to grow on his chin. "…But that can be easily cured by the appearance of these mysterious silver packages that smell suspiciously like a hobo dinner!" his voice came from down the hallway. I grinned. This day was already ridden with ups and downs.

"What is a hobo dinner?" asked Grafton, as Serena showed him her new double coated bullets. Morales was tucking in already. "Stuff that he cooks. Good, but it's hot." Cutter came out of the shower. "Well, seems like breakfast is ready." he observed. Everyone congregated around the counter and took a square. I chewed on the sausage meat inside. "It's not as good as my usual ones." I apologised, "Mainly because the stuff I made it with is half-dead." Morales slapped my hard on the back. "Don't worry. Your hobo dinners never cease to amaze." We threw the remnants into the incinerator and cleaned our weapons for a few minutes. I finished rubbing the gel on the last of my bullets, replaced it in its sabot and turned around as Serena's pad bleeped.

We gathered around it as a timetable appeared on screen. An UNSC base and defences would not arrive until a week. Until then, we would stay on Level 2 Alert, with constant air patrols watching for any sign of a Covenant re-attack. The civilian evacuations had been stalled by the appearance of several Covenant Cruisers behind our lines, currently holding positions, and we were unsure of what they were going to do.

"Well then." said Cutter, rubbing his palms, "We've got a week to waste. Anyone know a good place around here?"


	8. Prophet

Two days after the base was constructed, we were on the offensive again, this time capturing vital helipads for Pelicans waiting to pull out the last three thousand or so citizens. No doubt the Covenant was already there, judging by the harsh background chatter over the radios. I slammed a new clip into the SRS99 and snapped it back into its rack, then loaded my M6D and M7. Replacing them in their holsters, I surveyed the troop bay of the fast landing craft. Called the UH-22 Manta, this old but reliable design was in service from 2264, utilising a Wing-in Ground Effect design which replaced the hovercraft of the 22nd century.

The twin turbojets podded under the wings screamed louder as we skimmed closer towards the target a lush green beach. "Sixty seconds to landing! Get ready Marines!" barked the pilots. The Manta's commander began issuing orders. "SAMs, green light to engage! .50 Cals, load your weapons! Scorpions start engines!" The massive troop bay burst into frenzied activity as the massive assault landing craft hurtled towards the beach. The four Scorpion tanks roared to life, their huge diesel engines spluttering black oily smoke as the Marine inside worked the systems to life.

"Thirty seconds to landing!" The last of the vehicles attended to, the Marines began loading their weapons, and soon the already loud din of the four Scorpions were accompanied by the harsh metallic sounds of magazines being primed and loaded, safeties being released, and weapons being released from their racks. "Ten seconds to landing!" reported the pilot, his voice rising. "Marines, we are green, and very, very mean!" screamed a sergeant, pumping the humans crammed inside. The troop bay erupted in growls as the Marines responded.

"Touchdown! Landing skirts inflating! Main doors opening!" The Manta ground ashore with a rough scratching of sand on aluminium, and was soon punctuated by the howl of the engines as the pilot turned them up, heaving the landing craft further ashore. The .50 Cals opened up their staccato rattles, sweeping the treelines. The landing doors finally clanked open, releasing the ramp pressing against them and revealing the outside world.

The Scorpions revved their engines and rolled out, metal tracks squeaking and clanking. The scream of Covenant aircraft passed overhead, accompanied by the metallic sounds of their plasma weapons discharging, then the Manta rocked slightly as its sides were pummelled by plasma. "Move it tanks!" the pilot ordered. The last Scorpion unloaded, and immediately pounded away with its 90mm cannon.

It was our turn. The last of the wave, and the most vulnerable, were the humans themselves. We emerged into an environment of roiling water, huge plumes of sand and ash as Covenant artillery rained down on us with frightening squeals. Sparrowhawks and Pelicans rigged for Air-to-Air and Air-to-Ground combat wheeled in the sky, trading machinegun fire with the smaller, better manoeuvrable Banshees dotting the skies.

Covenant snipers nestled safe amongst the trees opened fire with beam rifles, the bright purple beams of light cracking across the sky in dead straight lines and hitting our troops, felling them where they stood. I watched as a small squadron of three ODSTs each carrying M202A4 FLASH 2 napalm rocket launchers, a heavy four-barrelled shoulder mounted weapon firing incendiary unguided rockets as they advanced within range, then opened fire with the weapons. Explosions ripped from the trees, then the wood burst into flames, dispelling about three Jackal snipers, all of which were cut down by overwhelming fire from at least sixty MA5C rifles.

A Banshee swooped in from an attack run, arrowing in from the blue seas now churning with plasma fire. One of the FLASH 2 users simply shouldered his weapon once more and fired. A rocket sped out of the second tube, whistling towards the Covenant vessel. The Banshee tried to break right, presenting its entire backside for the missile to hit. The FLASH rocket crunched into the delicate rudders at the back of the Banshee, setting them on fire and inhibiting any movement.

The Covenant aircraft wobbled unsteadily before a missile fired from the Manta's SAM smashed through its cockpit, going out through the other side. The plane finally splashed down beside the Manta, burning brightly from its dry tail section. The Manta's pilot jammed the throttles in reverse, cycling two flaps out from the engines and redirecting thrust backwards. Like a prehistoric crocodile, the landing craft shoved itself heavily back into deeper water, where it drifted. A public radio message was made over the radio.

"This is Manta Six to all UNSC small helicopter units, we are free for resupply, landing co-ordinates are at three-three-seven due east of point Orchid."

Cutter, who I had lost amongst the rush to get on ground, now barked into the radio, "All SMS Skull Four form on me!" At the same time a marker appeared on my HUD- he was pressed against a downed Pelican, using its half-submerged turret to supress some Brutes and Skirmishers trying to get to some wounded Marines. Grafton reached him first, then I arrived in time to hear him say, "Use that grenade launcher there, take out those Brutes while I cover those boys."

Grafton nodded, deposited his DMR and picked up the grenade launcher and crouch-ran to just within four metres of the hiding Brutes. He lifted the grenade launcher and tested the air with a wet finger. Satisfied, he aimed the launcher into the sky and fired with a soft thump. Grafton ran back to us as the bomb dropped from the sky, landing on the other side of the burnt stone and scattering the small squad.

Serena and Morales arrived next, then finally Harris, limping slightly. "Let me see that." demanded Grafton, pointing an accusing finger at Harris's foot, where a foot long needle from a Needle Rifle protruded. Harris nodded, and Grafton crouched down. "I'm going to take out the needle." he said, extracting a pair of tweezers and gently extracting the glowing pink crystal. Serena attended to Harris's foot while Grafton found an Elite holding a Needle Rifle. "Hey! Split-Jaw! Here's your needle back!" the ODST yelled in a controlled rage.

The Elite looked up and emitted a startled "Wort?" before the pink glowing crystal as swung into his eye socket. Grafton, still holding the thing, pushed it back and forth in the eye, deliberately agitating it, then pulled back as the right half of the Elite's head exploded. More Elites rushed down the narrow path leading up to a low hill where the Covenant artillery Wraiths hovered, raining hell upon our troops. "We've got to get up that hill!" yelled Cutter, breaking cover and dashing to where Grafton crouched, firing his DMR at the increasing amounts of aliens coming down the path.

"Any chance of doing it?" I asked, joining him at the foot of the sandy route. "We're gonna need a lot of air-strikes if we've got any chance of going up." Six SPARTAN-IIIs jogged past, unslinging their MA5Cs from their armoured backs. "…SPARTANs?" I asked. Cutter sighed and nodded. He gestured for the rest of Skull 4 to come over, then pointed up the path and made a chopping action with his arm. Scorpions trundled up the path, plasma fire melting harmlessly into their thick armour plating.

"SMS Command to SMS Skull 4, move up with the rest of the Marines, then split off and move in an easterly direction. Meet up with other SMS forces three hundred metres west of the Covenant's position. This is a Level Four directive. Comply with the orders and wait for further instructions from SMS Skull One-One."

"Skull Four-One acknowledges." replied Cutter, then cut the connection with a click. "Move out!" he commanded, waving us forward into the sandy path. The Scorpions moved up first, raking the trees on either side with machinegun fire. A plasma grenade arced through the air and stuck fast to one, then ignited. The tank shook as the blue plasma burst against its armour, but kept moving. Jackals and Drones poured out of the trees, filling the air with their deadly fire. A SPARTAN tore a flamethrower from a dead ODST's hands and kept back the aliens with long bursts of sticky fire.

We opened fire as a whole, shredding the oncoming Covenant with bullets. Jackals turned and fled as their shields changed colour to signify battery life and Elites were simply overwhelmed by the amount of metal flying through the air, but the Brutes were a different story. Whenever a Brute's armour failed, it nearly always reverted to an animalistic charge, which seemed to toughen its skin so that even a full clip of DMR couldn't stop it. A Brute would strike down at least four or five Marines before the rest of us poured our clips into it, finally killing the beast.

The endless pillars of soil, soot and sand stopped momentarily as the Wraiths paused to change plasma batteries, then resumed their bombardment. A Brute tackled me, snarling ferociously. "I'm screwed." I foretold as the gorilla-like alien raised a fist to smash me into the ground. At the last second, I rolled sideways and the massive fist, three times the size of mine, slammed into the ground. "Four!" yelled Grafton, throwing me a M45 Shotgun. I snatched it out of the air- then was beaten to the ground by another fist. The back of my head hurt and I felt warm sticky liquid running down my neck.

I rolled again as the Brute roared and slammed its hand into the ground, bullets imbedding themselves in its thick fur. I raised the Shotgun, noting that it was set to slug shells, not the typical rounds, and basically fired a four centimetre wide metal cylinder into its face. The head exploded, showering me with purple blood and (not-so-surprisingly little) brain matter. "Ugh." I complained, wiping the stuff off my visor and leaving purple smudges. Still not seeing very clearly, I crawled my way towards a tree and propped myself up. I had probably cracked some ribs when the Brute had charged me, and I had definitely cut the back of my head.

Serena dashed across to me, holding a scavenged medi-kit and flipped it open, revealing some biofoam, bioconcrete and some morphine injections. "This should only hurt a lot." she said, pulling off my armour and revealing my bruised stomach, and gently as she could in a combat situation, applied a packet of bioconcrete to my stomach. The insides of the packet quickly melted into my skin, leaving an ugly mark that would disappear in a day or two. The nanomachines imbedded within the concrete went to work, activated by blood, they quickly moved the substance into the right position.

I groaned as my body emitted some foul cracking noises as my ribs shifted slightly, moving themselves back into position, then the nanomachines set the liquid bioconcrete, clamping down on the fractures between the bones and allowing full range of motion again. "That's always nice to hear. Your ribs should be fine in a few weeks. Until then, you can move about, just don't stretch your chest too hard, or the concrete will break. Now, about that cut." She flipped me around and ducked as a plasma bomb splashed down near us. The girl sprayed the wound slightly with a small water jet inside the pack, which was doused with a bit of watered-down disinfectant. I winced as the cut seared. The ODST squeezed some biofoam into the wound, and slapped on a cloth square. "Done." she said, picking up her S2 AM rifle and prepping it for combat once more.

I heaved my armour back on, ducking as a needle whizzed out of nowhere and imbedded itself in the tree. The Covenant was making a tenacious retreat, giving ground only when forced and remained fresh with reinforcements dropping from Spirits while the Marines started to wear out. "Base, can you spare any more Marines?" asked a panicky voice over the radio "Negative Sergeant, we've got problems on our end too. A Covenant strike force just landed in Manassas, we're fighting in the streets right now."

"Damn it Sergeant, we're retreating on our end! Look out! Hunters!"

"Stop! Hold your ground! Buck! Damn it, Command, we need soldiers now!"

"No can do Bennett, we've got our hands full as it is. Yes sir? Contacts approaching base from three o'clock…"

"…Shit." swore the Sergeant. I dodged some Spiker rounds and downed a Brute with a shot to the head. "Are we falling back?" I asked Cutter, who was standing next to me and holding our ground against another fresh squad of soldiers from the Spirits. Colonel Hood answered that. "This is Colonel Hood to all forces. Begin a retreat. Let the injured go first."

"Roger, Colonel!" replied Bennet, slamming a new clip into his weapon and beginning another burst of fire. "You heard the man, get back to the Mantas!"

Another voice joined the bubbling radio chatter. "This is SMS Scythe One-Two to all retreating forces- cancel your retreat and re-engage the enemy."

"SMS? Who is this?"

"Strategic Military Services. Scythe One-Two to Scythe Two formation- begin attack runs on targets. All SMS Forces on the ground carry on with your individual instructions. SMS Shark One will be on station with SMS Forces in three-six seconds." Cutter nodded, and marched forward towards the oncoming fire, then led us into the trees. For the first time, I was proud to be wearing the blue and white SMS logo. We could feel the Marine's eyes on our backs as we left them behind.

Under the trees, it was instantly cooler and darker. I slipped on damp mosses as we made our way towards the arranged meeting place. On this side of the island, the fighting was far off and the landscape was untainted, except for the odd purple Covenant tower or two. That peace was soon spoiled as a SMS Shark Pelican roared overhead, bending the trees beneath the force of its engines. I could see a glimpse of SMS soldiers nestled in the black and navy hull of the jet.

We hiked for ten minutes, constantly stumbling on dangerous rocks and slippery moss growths. I grumbled angrily as I fell over again, scratching the VISOR on my helmet. After another four minutes of torture, every one of us arrived at the objective. The Wraiths belched as they unloaded their charged up plasma into the air. Everyone had succeeded in tearing their combat suit, scratching their armour, and somehow managing to graze at least one knee beneath our armoured knee-pads. We sat down for a while as we waited for the rest of SMS Skull teams to arrive. Again, the rest of them showed up within a few minutes and we started to co-ordinate our attack. SMS Skull Two was equipped with six SPNKR launchers. "We'll be your fire support." We shuffled into position.

"Wait!" hissed Serena as Cutter lifted his hand to give the signal to attack. "What?" he asked quietly. Serena raised a gloved hand and pointed towards a member of the Covenant, something I had never seen before. It was seemingly physically weak, and had long spindly arms. It sat regally on a hovering chair, and surveyed the battlefield with a critical eye while conversing to an Elite Zealot. "Prophet." whispered Cutter. "Sniper. Now." our commander whispered urgently.

I shuffled forward, and raised the SRS99. "This is SMS Skull Four to all SMS units. Do not open fire." hissed Cutter into the radio.

"What? Why?" came the reply.

"Keep your voice down. We've got a Prophet."

"Prophet? Okay. Stuart, Bennelong, stop. Fall back! Right, keep your heads down."

Cutter gave me an okay sign, and I snicked the safety off the rifle with a quiet _click_. The Elite Zealot turned his head and growled suspiciously, looking around. We all froze. The Elite's gaze swept the trees around him as the Prophet huddled behind his chair nervously. The animal snorted and gave the high-ranking alien the all clear. The Prophet snaked its head out of the chair and resumed talking, with a few more suggestive glances.

I pressed my helmet against the scope, centring the sights on the Prophet's head. I looked one final time at Cutter for a final confirmation, and he nodded. I fired. The shot boomed across the short distance, the gel peeling away in a white mist as it struck three feet short of its target. "What?" I hissed as the Prophet's shields disappeared from view. The Elite roared and pointed a finger at us, shortly before he was blasted to smithereens by no less than six rockets from Skull Two, nestled in a cranny ten metres away.

Covenant soldiers sprang forth, more than sixty Elites and Brutes charging towards us, while a sizeable department broke off and scurried off with the Prophet as it floated quickly towards its waiting Spirit. "This sucks." I said, quickly replacing the barrel with a machinegun as plasma fire started to rip through the trees. "SMS Skull units, chase down that Prophet! Do not let it escape! This is a level zero directive. Comply immediately!" shouted the controller for SMS.

"Roger!" replied SMS Skull One-One, then switched to private radio. "Four, go after the Prophet, you've got the least people, so you'll move faster. The rest of you help us fight off the Covenant. Cutter started to object, but One-One cut the connection. "…Damn. Let's go." he said, scrambling to his feet and wading into the combat. We forced our way past the Covenant army charging at the SMS squads, and hurried down the hill, following the dusty scuffled footprints of the Covenant guards. "Command, get me a marker on the Prophet."

"Roger, sergeant, uploading data now. Also background information on Prophet is being sent to your battle network." A few seconds of sprinting later, a yellow arrow appeared, blinking on the side of the helmet. I turned right, seeing the arrow dart across the tree-line. "We've got the marker. The Prophet appears to have cut into the trees there." pointed Cutter, leading us once again into the coolness of the trees. Sweat coursed down my brow as I ran. More information appeared on screen, with a spinning holographic image of the Prophet. It appeared to be a minor one, a sort of General. It was a high-value target, four steps below the Covenant leaders- more Prophets, it had seemed. We rushed through the hastily cut trees, following the marker.

A Spirit buzzed into the air, with the Marker nestled inside. "Shit! They've gone airborne!" cursed Morales. "Wait, I've got something." answered Serena, tapping her pad as she ran. "Yes, there's a Manta, empty. It's got a damaged thrust system, but nothing I can't fix in a few minutes."

"Who's got any knowledge of flying?" demanded Cutter.

"Uh, I've ran a simulation on Pelicans once…" I huffed.

"You're taking pilot duty. Morales, you know heavy weaponry, right?"

"Yeah." panted the soldier.

"Take the SAM. Harris, Grafton and I will man the turrets."

We rounded a corner, and saw the abandoned Manta, sleek black, smoke rising from a crumpled left thruster. Serena immediately danced across the smooth metal surface, between the twin fins and four turbojets. The rest of us ran into the troop bay and began making checks. To my relief, I found that most of the controls were similar to the Pelican dropships I had had a few tries with in the simulator on base. I had at least a minute to memorise the layout of the cockpit, throttles, weapon systems, radio, intercom, radar, rudders, the list was endless. I nevertheless committed my brain to the task at hand.

I had thankfully got my mind around basic flying controls when Serena vaulted in through the troop bay and sauntered towards the cockpit, her armour discarded to reveal a white singlet and her face, covered in grease. She threw her tools onto the floors and said, "Spin it up." I began my pre-flight checks. "Flaps and Rudder… Main Ignition start." I punched the starter and the Manta screamed to life, four huge turbojets whirling to life. "Weapon system online, radar system online, running electronic checklist now…  
I droned to nobody in particular as I ran through the checklists. "All computer systems in the green, wait, slight fluctuation in the artificial horizon… okay." I flicked through the rest of the list without much trouble. "The left thruster's functioning at 89 percent capacity. I can fly." I declared.

"Good." she said, sliding into the co-pilot's seat. She looked at me and flicked her blonde diagonal fringe back, briefly revealing her left eye before it snapped stubbornly back in position. I took my eyes off her and onto the controls. "Throttles… Zone Five Afters…" I muttered to myself as I reached for the control.

"What's an After?" she asked as I raised the troop bay doors and grasped the throttle for all four jets. "This." I said, shoving the throttles to their furthest point. The engines kicked into full afterburners, dumping pure diesel fuel into the combustion chambers. Serena and I were kicked into our seats and the jet powered landing craft blasted across the water, nose held high, four rooster tails of water spraying out the back as we screamed across the water towards the Prophet's Spirit.

"WIGE mode online." commented a computerised voice. "Good." I said, jamming the throttles back and reaching for a button. "WIDGE?"

"Wing in Ground Effect. This is how Mantas move so fast and so low. WIGE craft replaced the old hovercraft. Lift from the wings basically balloons the jet over the water, one metre above the surface. We roared away from the island, and into choppy seas. "Sufficient airspeed reached. Exiting WIDGE." I pulled back on the yoke, lifting the Manta, slowly, gracefully, into the sky. I felt the nose tip forward a little and the large jet start to float slightly and responded by increasing power to full military, which was the fastest we could go from Zone 1 Afters.

Morales whooped from upstairs as I kept the Manta going. I reached a sufficient altitude and pushed the pointed ergonomic nose forward, causing little bits of fluff and dust- and my stomach to float gently as the negative-Gs increased, then returned to 0.9 as the Manta levelled out. "Grants, what weapons do I have access to?" I asked. The girl leaned forward until she had her face almost pushed up against the LCD screen. "Uhh.. AIM-120X AMRAAM-IIs, four of them, a 30mm chin mounted gun, six BVRAAM XLAAs, six of them- I expect you know what those are, and two FAEBs. I have control of the chaff, flares, twin rocket pods and 20mm turrets, it says."

"AMRAAMs and BVRAAMs, eh?" I mused. "We could do some damage…" I leaned forward and configured the touch screen to my personal liking. I leaned back as the Manta thundered along smoothly at 500 feet, accelerating towards the slow-moving Spirit as it attempted to get away. "Range to engagement 49 kilometres and closing. Speed currently 379 kilometres per hour, fuel levels sufficient for forty minutes of flight." reported Serena. "Within BVR range." I muttered.

"Computer, combat stance BVR." I commanded. Our seats tilted back slightly and the six XLAAs on my screen flashed yellow as the onboard computer disabled their electronic safety locks. The radar telescope out to 50 kilometres, locking onto the Spirit with one BVRAAM. "Solid lock. Wait, he's breaking now." The Spirit clumsily attempted a turn to break lock, and I followed it easily. "Nail the bastard." ordered Cutter from upstairs. "Roger. Fox One!" I called out as I swiped the final guard off the missile trigger and clamped down on it with my finger.

"Ray-Seven-Four, Fox One." acknowledged the computer. "Missile away. Launch bay rotating. BVRAAM Two is in position." The loud clunk of locks disengaging reverberated through the Manta, then there was a whoosh as the AIM-54D Phoenix-III long range missile engaged its dual pulse rocket motor. The white plume of smoke rocketed out from under the shadowy Manta as it accelerated towards the Spirit. "Missile tracking smoothly… Impact! We have an Impact!" shouted Serena triumphantly as we watched the missile slam home on the high-resolution tracking screen, which viewed through a small camera in the Phoenix's radar cone.

"Wait… Contact still on scopes! It's got shields…"

"Well, in that case, Computer, fire BVRAAMs two through six. Launch."

"Ray Seven-Four, Fox One. Missile away. Launch bay rotating. BVRAAM Three is in position. Missile away…" droned the computer, as all of our long-range missiles were ejected from their bay. "Impacts… Shields are still up." I reported as the radar blip remained stubbornly onscreen. "Very well then. Take us in up close." commanded Cutter.

I swallowed hard and gripped the throttles.


	9. Manta

"Range is now 12 kilometres and closing." reported Serena. "Good." I replied.

"I see the Spirit!" announced Cutter. If I squinted, I could make out the tiny odd-shaped ship streaking away from the Manta as fast as its single Gravity Propulsion Drive could carry it. Nevertheless, we were gaining on it rapidly as I throttled up the twin thrusters, supplementing the two Main Drivers. "Within AMRAAM range." I reported as the computer blinked. "Don't fire them. We might need them for-" said Cutter, sidling closer to the cockpit to look over Serena's shoulder as she examined the electronics.

"Banshees!" yelled Morales above us.

"-Banshees." finished Cutter.

"Looks like a few Phantoms too!" added Morales.

Cutter sighed and marched stiffly back to his turret. Seconds later I heard the tinkle of rounds being fed into the M41 LAAG machinegun. "Grafton, Harris, prepare for combat!" shouted Cutter.

"Roger." came the reply. Morales swivelled the large SAM around, now serving as an AAM launcher, firing missiles not from the surface, but in mid-air. Serena took command of the twin ball turrets out to the left and right of the Manta, a few metres from the cockpit. As for me, I prepped the main AA systems for combat, saying, "Computer, combat stance close-in."

'Roger." Our seats tilted back further, to accommodate for the high G-loads induced by tight turns in manoeuvring, and the computer engaged full directional power from the thrusters. "Launching AMRAAMs now." I locked onto four Banshees accelerating towards us and opened fire. "Fox One." I called.

"Ray-Seven-Four, Fox One. Missile One away. Missile Two away. Missile Three away. Missile Four away." The Manta shook slightly as the four remaining radar guided missile streaked out from the bay, dividing up into four separate white streaks. A few seconds later, four blue and orange explosions dotted across the stormy horizon as the missiles found their targets. "Splash Four." droned the computer. At the same time for of the smaller contacts winked off my scopes.

"SMS Command to SMS Skull Four, requesting a sit-rep."

"Currently pursuing Prophet- Spirit seems to be outfitted with some kind of powerful shields, though. Engaging up to six Phantoms and twenty Banshees now."

"Roger. The Prophet is apparently going to head into low earth orbit. We will divert some of the remaining SMS Shark Pelicans to assist you. If the Prophet escapes, they'll go after it."

"Roger." Cutter clicked off the line, and sighed heavily. The Banshees hurtled towards us at frightening speed. Within seconds, Morales was firing his Jackhammer missiles into the air, and all of us were smoothly tracking targets from our guns, firing with computer-aided precision. Two Banshees fell out of the sky as they blew past us, our heavy machineguns tearing them to shreds before they had a chance to open fire with their mounted cannons.

Four more Banshees rushed us, firing their cannons. Blue streaks tore into the manta's flanks, throwing me and Serena forward with twin thuds. "Starboard hull breached." reported the computer." I could faintly hear the roar of incoming wind where the Covenant plasma rounds had pierced the thin metal hull. It began to rain furiously. Reach's weather was notoriously unpredictable. In this case it was to our advantage- the Manta's huge frame simply weathered the rain and lightning like it was a curtain getting pushed past, while the Banshees rocked and tumbled in the violent wind gusts swirling around the battle, supplemented by the giant wing-tip vortices rolling out from our delta wings.

A Banshee flew over us, tipping around in a somersault to bring its weapons to bear on our cockpit. Serena quickly trained a stream of bullets into it. The Banshee seemed to stand before our eyes as Serena kept her hand on the trigger and the bullets continued to blast into it. More and more pieces fell out of the Covenant aircraft, until a bullet wormed its way into the right anti-gravity drive. The stubby wing exploded outwards in a shower of blue plasma energy, and the Banshee tipped downwards and spiralled pathetically downwards. The right machinegun turret chattered to life as Cutter shredded another Banshee.

The Manta shook violently again as something big hit us from behind. "Warning- significant hull breach in tail section. Both Right and Left Main Drivers are damaged. Engine capacity is at 67%. Morales nailed the attacker with four Jackhammers. I felt the Manta decelerate to a sluggish cruising speed, trembling slightly as the engines fought to stay alive. Harris and Grafton sent the carcass of a Banshee shearing across the sky with a combined ten second burst of fire while Cutter slammed a new clip into his machinegun.

"Where are you going?" I asked Serena, who suddenly got up, clutching my shoulder for support as the Manta rocked. "I'm going to see if I can do anything about those engines- buy us some time." she answered, already turning around. "Okay, but be careful." I answered, turning back to face forward- and got my face full of Phantom. "Shit!" I yelled, pulling back on the yoke. Serena cried out from down the narrow hallway as the Manta tipped upwards, clearing the Covenant craft by centimetres!

"Watch it!" complained Serena.

"Sorry." Morales pumped six rockets into the Phantom behind us, and I heard the distinctive high-pitched whine of a gravity unit going overpowered before there was a crippling explosion that felt like a giant was hitting out plane with a hammer. We blew past the remaining five Phantoms with a touch of afterburners that made the engines groan with stress. "Warning- engine damage sustained. Speed limiters engaged." said the computer. "Override speed limiters only in emergencies. Engine functioning capacity now at 50%."

I broke hard right to avoid a fuel rod cannon shot coming in at me from one of the fifteen Banshees swooping above me. Lighting boomed around the Manta as it fought its way into the pounding rain. "Shut down the engines! Run her on thruster power only!" commanded Serena.

"What? But we'll be sitting ducks for plasma fire!"

"Do it!" I sighed and pulled down on the throttles, shifting the two Main Drivers into idle and pushing the auxiliary turbojet thrusters only used for speed boosts and high-G moves, to full power. The Manta decelerated, and the stick felt sluggish. "I hope you know what you're doing!" I said as the last wisp of power faded from the Main Drivers, winking out our main source of speed. Serena's radio was broadcasting metallic clangs and scrapes as Serena muttered and dragged something heavy across the floor. "Done!" she said, as another Fuel Rod Cannon narrowly missed the Manta as the Elite and Brute pilots got their aim.

"Engine capacity restored to 76 percent." reported the computer.

"Can I spin them up now?" I demanded. "Go ahead!" Serena shouted as more plasma rounds thudded into the Manta. I punched the main ignition, waited three seconds for the engines to splutter back to life, and shoved the throttles steadily forward, feeling the Manta get underway again. "Barrel's overheated." reported Cutter, losing our right flank for ten seconds as his computer denied access to the weapon until it was fully cooled and ready for use. "I got you covered," said Serena as she reappeared and slid back into her seat.

She quickly trained her weapons on the right side of the Manta as Cutter waited impatiently. "Weapon online." He declared, then began firing. "Six kilometres to Spirit." I droned. Visibility had been reduced to three miles, so the Spirit had disappeared from view. This is SMS Shark Two-One to SMS Skull Four, do you read?" crackled an outside source, the storm's lighting interfering from the signal.

"Copy that." I answered. "We could use some help."

"Roger. All units, this is Shark Two-One, clear to engage!" Pelicans dropped out of the mist, six in total, Archer pods blazing away salvos of missiles at the Banshees. Almost as if in response, four more Phantoms loomed out of the mist, plasma cannons blazing. A black, white and blue Shark Pelican cut across my path, its armoured flanks absorbing the plasma damage that spat out of the Phantoms.

Another Pelican swooped in front of me, and I saw something. "SPARTANs?..." I asked. One of the black armoured soldiers lifted a SPNKR rocket launched and lifted it to his helmet. A rocket blasted out of the stubby barrel soundlessly, driving home on a Phantom's plasma cannon. The Covenant dropship replied by an Elite leaning out of the troop bay and firing several shots from a Fuel Rod Gun. The Pelican flipped around in a Cobra move, rolling over the green rods as they arced away, and nailed the Phantom with no less than six micro missiles slung in a pod under its engines.

"SMS Skull Team, get to that Spirit! We'll hold the off as long as we can!" Six Pelicans roared in front of us and turned to blow past me, herding the Covenant back towards the island. We flew on through the storm, gaining speed rapidly. The Spirit shimmered into view, making slow progress through the storm. Our four engines quickly propelled us into firing range for our remaining guns- and theirs. "Hold on." I warned as I pushed the stick all the way to the left. Serena swore as the Manta tipped sideways and rolled away from most of a storm of fire from the plasma guns mounted on the Spirit.

"Next time you do that, please warn me at least ten seconds before you do a roll." groaned Serena. I wrestled the Manta into another gut-wrenching flip away from the next bolt of plasma. "How about this." I said. "You just be expecting one all the time." Serena sighed and yelped as I pulled up hard to avoid plasma. "This is getting annoying." she complained.

"Y'think?" I answered, slamming the throttles to Zone 5. The Manta surged forward. "What's with the moves?" demanded Cutter. "Plasma!" I yelled back. "Lay off, please!"

"No can do! I can fly above the Spirit, but they've got a guided plasma mortar up top. We'll be killed!" Cutter swore. Morales completed reloading his weapon and blasted the Spirit with his entire clip. Once again, the shields smacked into the place and the Spirit was peppered with explosion three metres away from its hull. "Won't work!" he reported.

"I have an idea." said Grafton. "Open the troop bay, please."

"Huh?"

"Open the doors. Fly over the Spirit."

"What? We'll get chewed up!" asked Cutter incredulously.

"Open the doors and fly over the Spirit. It won't take a second." I shrugged in resignation and obeyed. I position myself delicately on top, ignoring the shrill tone of a lock-on. "Grafton, whatever you're doing, do it now!" I yelled.

Grafton grunted over the radio, there was an engine roar, and suddenly my Manta bounced up as the tail section lifted. 'Warning- Scorpion tank leaving troop bay." the computer reported. I didn't wait around, and immediately closed the troop bay and ducked underneath the Spirit as lines of blue plasma, guided by magnetic fields lanced out of a tube on top of the Spirit and arched downwards.

The Spirit lurched and suddenly, its shields flickered and died away, as the 50-ton Scorpion tank crunched down onto it! "Nail the bastard!" shouted Cutter. I selected my last two weapons, Fuel Air Explosive Bombs, and threw them up into the air by pulling back on the stick, waiting til the pipper brushed the Covenant Spirit and pulling the trigger, in a bomb-toss move. The two bombs sailed lazily into the air, as I rolled to avoid two bright blue plasma beams whizzing past. The first bomb missed the Spirit, disappearing into the stormy skies, and detonated in a bright flash and a huge roar.

The second bomb however, was right on mark, it reach the apogee of its flight, dropped like a stone, and split apart five metres above the Spirit. Immediately, a white mist burst out from the bomb, and was whipped away by the howling wind. Two seconds later, eighty micro-explosives mixed in thoroughly with the flammable liquid sparked, igniting the napalm around them. "Holy shit." remarked Grafton, as the wind hurled the fire round and round, encasing the Spirit in a whirling fiery cocoon.

The flames continued to lick at the black shadowy Spirit trapped inside, unperturbed by the rain. We hovered just beyond the reach of the flames, looking at the spectacle. Serena's eyes reflected the glimmer of the orange, white and yellow flames as they danced furiously, cracking open the Covenant Spirit and working its way inside. The shadowy craft disfigured in an instant as it seemed to give up hope while the fire burned its internal organs.

"Scratch one Prophet." I muttered, not feeling very happy at all. We had barely enough fuel to make it back home, our Manta was banged-up in more than forty-seven locations and six vital areas, and I had no more weapons except for the twin 20mm Vulcan mounted cannons. I rolled right and began a gentle turn, when suddenly the air prickled and cracked. At the same time, Serena's pad beeped a warning. "Slipspace rupture! Look out for the EMP!" shouted Serena. "Slipspace rupture? That means…Shit!" I jammed the throttles to Zone 5 and pushed the Manta into a screaming lunge at the ocean swaying beneath us, two seconds after a giant Covenant spacecraft blasted out of a shimmering blue portal!

"EMP!" warned Serena loudly against my ear. It was too late. As soon as the Covenant ship's tail exited the portal, the black vortex folded in on itself without an energy source to sustain it, and then released a blue electrical pulse that splashed against the Covenant shields and passed through our Manta. All the screens and electronic equipment inside the cockpit immediately blanked-out, and the throb of the twin Main Drivers ceased beneath my boots.

The Manta wobbled for a moment, then tipped further into an uncontrolled dive towards the ocean! "Shit, shit, shit…" I swore as I pulled hard uselessly on the fly-by-wire control column. Cutter tumbled out of the hallway and landed with a thud next to me. "What's happening?" he shouted.

"That ship just caused an EMP!"

"Damn it…" Cutter cursed, adopting the crash position. My hands flew over the controls, attempting anything that would spark the system back up. Serena had also given up hope, and was hurriedly strapping on her basic armour and helmet. I glanced around. "There!" Everyone in the cockpit looked up. I left the useless controls and stumbled towards the panel marked, "Pump".

I crashed into the wall with a thump and twisted the panel open. Inside were two glass bars and a red handle. I grasped the handle and yanked as hard as I could. The handle came away trailing a white rope. "Serena, give the main computer a boost!"I commanded. The girl nodded and flipped open a panel at the bottom of the HUD, revealing wiring. Her hands weaved their way through the complex plastic strings until she found the one she wanted. Extracting some wire snippers, electronic binding equipment and her pad.

Serena worked quickly, cutting open the wire and stripping it, providing a work-way for the pad and bided it together with a strip of electronic binder. The wires snapped together, she zapped it with the pad's electric booster. One monitor came online, the main one. It immediately flashed, "Emergency thrusters online." We all fell to the floor as sections of the underside of the Manta fired off, revealing six explosive charges. They all fired together, exploding out in a conical shape, and the Manta brought its nose back up.

I jumped into the seat and jiggled the column back and forth. "We got fly-by-wire!" I yelled triumphantly. Cutter joined me at the co-pilot's seat as I pulled hard on the stick, keeping the Manta falling bottom first. I pointed to a pump on the side of his seat and he activated it, sliding a second stick out onto his lap with a hydraulic hiss. Cutter and I pulled together, keeping the aircraft steady. I reached down and pulled on another pump, deploying mechanical airbrakes which slowly hissed out as I pumped. The Manta slowed, less than fifty feet above the stormy sea.

"I'm gonna bring her down!" I yelled, keeping Serena's hands off the airbrake cut-off valve as our speed dropped below one hundred. I pulled one final time on the column, raising the Manta's nose a last time, before it splashed into the icy waters with a sickening impact. "Anybody hurt?" shouted Cutter as he scrambled to his feet. I remained in my seat, waiting for the last of the electrical spike to dissipate so I could run a damage report. Serena stumbled back upright, and headed with Cutter to check on Grafton, Morales and Harris. "I'm fine!" announced Harris. "Me too." said Grafton. "Morales seems down. He's got a scratch on his head, a broken wrist as well." reported Cutter. I was working the radio back to life, just in time to hear SMS Shark's broadcast. "SMS Shark Two-One to UNSC HQ- confirmed Covenant ship coming in on our scopes, bearing zero-five-zero from point Orchard, range thirty kilos. They might be searching for their Prophet. Request an engagement by UNSC ships."

"Roger Shark-Two-One. Contact confirmed on scopes. We are unable to direct any ships to engage at this point, will advise when reinforcements are available."

The Shark pilot sighed and switched to SMS radio. "SMS Shark Two-One to SMS Command, requesting instructions."

'Stand-by, Shark Two-One, we are forming a battle situation."

"Roger. All Shark units spread out and stay low. We don't want to get detected."

I worked frantically to get the radio fully operational so I could talk.

After thirty seconds, SMS Command came back on the air. "SMS Command to SMS units, battle situation as is follows: UNSC Forces have captured the Pelican landing zone, Covenant threat level is estimated to be 17%. However, UNSC safety has been compromised by the appearance of a Covenant Cruiser three-zero kilometres from Point Orchard bearing zero-fiver-zero. All SMS forces stand-by for further orders."

The radio fizzled and crackled as I pushed two wires together. I began fiddling with the back of the device, checking for anything knocked loose during our crash landing. SMS Command was probably discussing further movements to UNSC leaders as I worked. Three minutes of jiggling later, the radio started up again. "SMS Command requesting an inventory of forces."

"SMS Shark Squadron One and Two."

"SMS Sword Squad Three, Six and Seven."

"SMS Spark Squadron Five."

"SMS Scythe Squadron One and Two."

"SMS Skull Squad One, Two, Three, Five and Six."

"SMS Command to SMS Skull One-One, my computer is saying SMS Skull Four was also deployed."

"Affirmative, but they've gone missing after they went after the Prophet. No radio or radar signals."

"Roger."

I finally found the offending circuit and repaired it using some binders and electrical tape scattered about the floor. The 'Talk" light blinked on, and I pressed the transmit button. "We're here!"

"Break, Break, unknown radio user, authenticate code Poppa-Zero."

I winced, realising I didn't introduce myself first, and then spoke, "Poppa-Zero code acknowledges. Code is Green-Five. This is SMS Skull Four-Four, reporting in."

"SMS Command to SMS Skull Four-Four, what is your status?"

"We got hit by the Slipspace EMP the Cruiser created. We are in a Manta five-six kilos off Point Orchid. We've got two wounded." I rubbed the cement stain on my stomach. "Roger SMS Skull Four-Five, is your leader available?"

"Affirmative." I answered. I tilted my head back and hollered for Cutter.

The Squad Leader jogged out of the narrow metal walkway and squatted down next to me. "SMS Skull Four-One reporting."

"Roger Skull Four-One, is there any SMS or UNSC forces available for an extraction? All other units standby for an update in ten."

"SMS Shark Two-One here, we're free. Dispatching SMS Shark Two-Six to your location. Hang in there." Everyone went off the air with a squeal of static. Cutter turned towards me and asked, "Do you have the main systems working?"

"A few more reboots and the damage system should be fine."

"Okay. The rest of us are in the troop bay stocking up on ammo if you need us." Cutter turned and headed out the door. I shuffled back to the computer monitor and gave it a couple of good hard kicks. The thing hummed back to life after a few more hits and some minor binding.

"Warning- Airframe stress is over 90%. Take-off cannot be achieved in this condition. Beginning main drivers and core-components self-destruct." All UNSC computers were programmed to destroy files or technology if destruction was imminent. It was rather foolish, really. "Computer, Command: Override previous action."

"Voice-Command is protected. Protocol cannot be changed." I used one of the tricks I had learned back at boot camp. "Computer: Command, Override previous action."

"Complying- Warning-Protocol has been altered-"

"Computer, Command, Stop Self-Destruct."

"Complying."

The red light blinking on the console winked out.

"Computer, request a damage report."

"Complying- Hull breach in sector A2, C5 and G9, leaks in all breaches. Airframe stress at 97%. Takeoff is impossible at this stage. Airframe integrity at 65%. All weapons are currently in stock. Ammunition supplies 96%. Left Thruster is at 43% capability. Right Thruster is at 67% capability. Main Drivers both at 48% capability. Fuel is at 47%. Total Damage Rating is 78%. Recommend immediate repairs.

The nose of the Manta was sloped forwards, tipping up into the water. A few hours more and we would keel over and sink. I got up with a sigh and walked to the troop bay. Morales was awake, helmet off, bandage wrapped around his head. He had some bioconcrete on his wrist holding it together. He gave me a weak smile as I passed him and Harris, who was chewing on an MRE. Cutter was polishing a M7 gun, his old weapon, blood and gore coated, discarded in a dark corner of the slowly sinking vessel.

The Manta rolled over a voluminous wave, and I staggered as I made my way over to the three ODSTs huddled together. "What's the story?" asked Grafton, rubbing his rag on the DMR. "Not so good." I replied, throwing my rifle and bullets onto the metal floor next to Serena. She looked up from the gel she was rubbing and attempted a wry smile. I folded my legs and picked up my rifle. "I'm almost out of gel." Serena said. I tossed her my gel tube and drew my own cloth. Serena began to spread the white waxy substance on her next clip of shells as I flicked bits of Brute and Elite organs off my scope.

I continued to polish the gun until the scope was completely clean. I grimaced at the sight of the white cloth, now smudged all over in purple and red blood and giblets. I got up and opened a side hatch to go to rinse it in the sea. To my surprise, I couldn't reach the swirling waters below- the tail had risen by ten degrees. I closed the hatch and ducked back inside. "I hope that Pelican gets here soon." I said, going into the cockpit to retrieve the radio. The water had breached a tiny crack in the plexiglass covering, and drops of water were slowly trickling down, pooling in a small puddle near the rudder controls. I picked up the radio. It was in the middle of a conversation- half a minute to the update.

I headed back to the troop bay and plonked the device down. "SMS Command with a level one directive." Everybody's heads snapped up. Level one was an official order. "All SMS units are to board Covenant Cruiser. Stop the target from reaching the objective- we cannot afford to lose these citizens' only escape route. Stand-by for briefing."


	10. Cruiser

The Pelican stormed in to the sinking Manta, deploying two SMS SPARTANs. They rapped on our troop bay and I punched the door controls. The hydraulics groaned, revealing dark blue skies. It was raining lightly, but getting heavier all the time. A golden visor poked down from the Manta's roof, and a SPARTAN peered down into the gaping hole.

We had gotten prepared. I had my sniper rifle carried in my arms, an MA5 strapped firmly to my back, and a DMR awkwardly slotted behind the assault rifle. Cutter still wielded his M7 submachine gun, with a SPNKR rocket launcher in its stowed form. Harris scrambled to his feet and picked up his MA5K carbine and M6D Magnum. Serena carried a DMR and a carbine, while Grafton had a M7 and a M6D. Morales, recently recovered, carried a Magnum and a SMG, a break from his usual equipment, which would put too much strain on his arm.

The SPARTAN nodded at us, and motioned to his friend up top. Another SPARTAN jumped down into the hold, carrying a strange device, which resembled a long tube with a folded metal oval at one end, with a scope and trigger at the other. He raised it at the Pelican and fired. There was a pneumatic thump, and a cord blasted out of the tube with a hiss of steam. The rope was carried by the swirling wind, but another SPARTAN in the Pelican reached up and snatched it, doing something to it and attaching a piece of machinery.

The first SPARTAN knelt on the floor and attached a pulley, then wrapped the rope held by the second soldier around it. Taking out a stack of metal handles, he clipped one onto the rope and motioned for Serena to go. The girl took the handles unsteadily, and she was whisked off into the storm. In this fashion, all of us were carried through the battering rain into the hold of the Pelican, the SPARTANs coming last.

Now that I was dry and safe inside the metal hold of the green transport, I could see the oval in the tube was actually a deployable steel claw, which would rappel up and clutch or dig into any surface. One of the SMS SPARTANs cut the steel rope, and the Pelican was off. I handed my custom sniper rifle to one of the SPARTANs, saying, "Keep it safe. I can't use it inside the ship."

The armoured giant took the big gun from my hands and looked at it quizzically. "This rifle, it is customised, right?"

"Yeah."

"Mm. Too bad you're stuck with that piece of crap now." he pointed to my assault rifle. The SPARTAN pulled a SPNKR rocket launcher out of his rack. Attaching it to the magnetic stripes on his back, he yanked a DMR out of the rack, pulled something off, and handed it to me. "This is all I can spare." It was a laser sight, infra-red, meaning it was invisible to the naked eye, and could only be seen using the ODST and SPARTAN visors.

Nodding my thanks, I clicked the laser sight onto the MA5 and sat down next to the SPARTAN. The other massive soldiers stared down at me. I was more than slightly intimidated. "Them." the first SPARTAN began, "do they use attachments?" he jerked a thumb at the rest of my squad, who were sitting together away from the SPARTANs, discussing something animatedly. "Nope."

"Mm." I ran over the short briefing the SMS operator had given us only a few minutes before. SMS Shark Squadrons One and Two were to be escorted past the Carrier's shields by SMS Scythe and Spark Squadrons. SMS Scythe Squadrons, a mixture of AA Pelicans and Hornets, were primarily air-to-air units. SMS Spark Squadron Five was a pure ground and anti-ship attack, flying Sparrowhawks and AG Pelicans. They would clear the way for us by eliminating a section of the Covenant air defences, and us, an SMS Skull, Sword and Shark combine, would penetrate their hangar bay from two different locations and fight our way into the Covenant Cruiser. We would meet up in the primary reactor and attempt to destroy the delicate glassing mechanism, preventing the Covenant ship from destroying the vital landing areas.

As soon as that was complete, SMS Skull Squads would move up to the plasma torpedo launch bays and destroy or neutralise those, while SMS Sword, the SPARTANs, would penetrate the command centre and download all files to the SMS and UNSC database. As soon as both operations were complete, we were to return to the hangar and wait for evac by Shark Squadron. If Shark Squadron had been eliminated, or was unable to land, we were to follow the SPARTANs, who were thoroughly versed in handling Covenant equipment and vehicles.

As soon as we were off the ship, UNSC forces would either send in four Frigates to destroy the cruiser, or a squadron of Longswords equipped with Shiva nukes. "SMS Shark to SMS Spark and Scythe Squadrons, we'll follow your lead."

"Roger, SMS Shark. Keep close to our 12 o'clock." The Pelican tilted into a steep turn, and I grabbed a strut for support. The SPARTANs stood up, snatching their weaponry off the walls. They were all equipped with SPNKR launchers, a curious laser-like device with the words "GALILEAN LASER" imprinted on their sides, or simply rammed a clip into their weapons and waited. The SPARTAN who had given me the laser attachment pointed to Grafton, then at the turret waiting for him.

The ODST nodded, and gripped both handles of the machinegun tightly. "Banshees inbound!" shouted someone over the radio, and seconds later they were all over us. Grafton was hunched over his turret, blasting away at the blurry purple shapes whizzing past us. It was hard to see over the pounding rain. The SPARTANs kicked open peepholes in the side of the Pelican and aimed their weapons. Two of the super-soldiers clanked over beside Grafton and hefted their Spartan Lasers. One of them found a bead on a Banshee, and pressed on the trigger. The weapon emitted a high-pitched whine and a bright red glow, then erupted in a red and white beam that lanced across the sky, destroying no more than six Banshees as they whirred over the point of impact. A SPARTAN next to me lifted his rocket launcher from the recoil and simply pressed it to his shoulder and fired his second rocket.

Every time one of the SPARTANs fired his weapon, nearly all of the times later, there was the distinctive crunch or explosion of a Banshee getting nailed. The pilot wrenched the Pelican into another evasive turn, a fraction too late. The Pelican shook as something big hit the right side. "Starboard rear engine just took a hit! I'm gonna have to jettison it!" here was a heavy clunk, and I saw the olive green, crumpled mess of a turbine dropping away into the mist. A Pelican swooped in behind us, and the pilots gave us a thumbs-up.

Several plasma shots raked the front end of the Pelican, and someone cried out. The Pelican began to list to the side. "Pilot's hit! Shit! Does anyone know how to fly?" I dashed up to the cockpit, and hauled the pilot's burnt body out of the chair. The Windscreen was punctured where the plasma round had gone past, and cold wind was spraying into the cramped space. I slid into the bulky pilot's seat and examined the controls. In front of me was another fly-by-wire control unit, with a flashing HUD. I grasped the column and heaved it left, bringing the Pelican back into level flight. "Watch the engine power!" warned the man in the back seat. The Pelican was beginning to slew to the right, on account of the destroyed right engine. I pushed the Pelican back on course and re-calibrated the fly-by wire systems.

In front of me was a dim shape, the Cruiser. Much closer was the squadron of AA Pelicans and Hornets, rolling steadily towards our objective. Lighting flashed behind the cruiser, revealing the distinctive whale shape in a black and white flash. Banshees whirled around us, vying to get another shot at the exposed cockpit. A Hornet suddenly decelerated, and we blew past it. I snapped my head right, to see it was holding position off my right flank! "Thought you could use some help."

"Roger." The Hornet suddenly dived across my line of vision, banking into the path of green fuel rod cannon shot. The round hit, but the Hornet's armoured flanks took the beating without as much as a dent. The Hornet replied with a salvo of heat-seeking Sidewinder III missiles, blowing the Banshee to bits. "Stay alert, SMS Skull." I refocused my gaze, and thought with renewed clarity. I pushed all throttles forward, spooling the engines up to maximum speed. A rocket burst in front of a Banshee, causing the Brute inside to enter its berserker state. The Banshee tore itself apart as the Brute flailed wildly. The co-pilot snickered.

We pushed on through the Banshees swirling around in the storm, steadily approaching the Covenant Cruiser. "Three-Zero seconds to launch!" announced a Pelican pilot. I followed the green UNSC aircraft in front of me as it twisted and turned to avoid the blue plasma fire lashing out from the Banshee's plasma cannon. We screamed past the final swarm of Covenant aircraft, and abruptly, all of the two Scythe Squadrons peeled away, leaving us alone with Spark Squadron. I could see the slight distortions of the shield barriers as they flickered up, preventing us from entering.

A Spark AG Pelican released a large fat missile from its weapon bays, the pilot calling out "Spark Two-Six, magnum!" The missile streaked out from the aircraft, impacting against the shields and sending tendrils of blue energy fizzling out to all sides. "Everyone, through the gap!" I pulled the Pelican into a hard right turn, dodging bursts of plasma energy, then hauled it again into a tight move to the left, grunting against the G-Forces.

We passed through the gap in the flickering shields, in the middle of a cluster of forty or so Pelicans and Sparrowhawks that set a beeline towards the open hangar bay. A Pelican behind us attempted to follow, but the shields snapped shut a split-second earlier. The jet crunched into the shimmering barrier and detonated in a bright orange and white explosion. The other jets pulled up just in time and turned back. The Covenant AA defences on the Cruiser opened up, shooting bright blue beams of plasma that lingered in the air before dissipating. Another Pelican was hit, shooting flames out of its fuselage and peeled away, smashing against the armoured hull of the Covenant starship.

The rest of us slowed as the Sparrowhawks and Spark Pelicans raced ahead, wreaking havoc on a designated sector of Covenant guns for us. "Go in low, we're out of arrows but we managed to hit most of them."

"Roger!" Spark Squadron pulled out of the fight, screaming for home. SMS Shark Two-One nudged his Pelican into a trench, lined with burning gun emplacements. The occasional gun did survive and manage to shoot at us, scoring another hit on my fuselage. The Pelican wobbled unsteadily as pieces the size of dinner plates started to peel away from the damaged area. Two-One took a hard left, and I barely managed to follow him, me and the co-pilot pulling together on the stiffening control columns. The Pelican was losing altitude- and speed.

We ballooned over a ridge sprinkled generously with fuel rod cannons, and the opened up as we flew past. Shark Two-One's Pelican took a clip from a green glowing projectile, and hit its damaged wing on the barrel of an AA plasma cannon. The wing sheared right off, spinning the Pelican around, spouting flames from its wing-root, but Two-One managed to recover in time. He made a sloppy right turn, and we were approaching the open hangar doors, the last of its Banshees sitting pilotless on the metal floor started to disappear as the Hangar doors started to grind shut!

"All pilots hit the throttles!" The Pelican I was following lunged forward, and I shoved all three working throttles into Zone 5 afterburners. The whole squadron scraped in just in time, the last Pelican's tail assembly crushed to pieces as the doors slammed closed! The damaged Pelican fish-tailed wildly, slamming into another, sending both sliding to the ground with a metallic shriek. I couldn't keep my one up for too long as well. Holes started to appear in the floor as Covenant small arms fire started to penetrate the armour. The co-pilot took a Spiker round through the chest as I ducked, and slumped over his console.

I wrestled with the controls, raising the nose and rushing in towards a sizeable force of Covenant. I rushed out the cockpit and shouted, "Get ready to jump!" Everyone made sure their armour and helmets were on tight, and stowed their weapons. The purple metal floor blurred beneath me as the transport picked up speed. When we were about a metre off the ground, I hurled myself off, landing on the hard metal floor on my shoulder with a clang. I got up painfully and rubbed my arm. It wasn't too damaged, a scrape maybe.

The rest of my squad was picking themselves off the floor, but the SPARTANs were still inside the Pelican! The transport hit something on the floor, turned over onto its roof, and skidded the last twenty metres into the Covenant, ploughing into them like a shovel. I glimpsed the SPARTANs stepping calmly off from the troop bay, and immediately setting up a defensive posture, guns trained in all directions. The Pelican detonated in a giant explosion, killing off any Covenant survivors.

Most of the Pelicans had landed, or rather crash-landed, but the people inside were still safe. I raised the MA5 rifle and swept the huge hangar room for any resistance. There was a small firefight in the corner between SPARTANs and Elites, but the SPARTANs seemed to have it under control. Brutes were making their way down to come up behind SMS Skull Two, who were just stepping off from their Pelican, which crashed into the left wall, killing the pilots. I pointed at the Brutes and motioned at Cutter. The leader knelt down, raised the sights of the launcher, and fired.

There was a white puff of smoke, then the yellow glow of the rocket motor as the missile streaked across the room, wiping out the six or so Brutes just jumping down to the Pelican. Two's men gave us a thumbs-up, then pointed over our shoulders. I was the last man between our squad and theirs so I raised my fist and spun round, feeling the shock as my hand connected with a Brute's stomach. Grafton's combat instincts kicked in, and he rushed forward at the second Brute, tossing his M7 SMG into the air and snatching up the first ape's weapon as it staggered backwards. A quick slash, and the Brute's armour as peeled away, and Grafton snatched his SMG out of the air and emptied half the magazine into the Brute's chest. The Brute roared, ready to enter its berserker stage, but Grafton slashed the Spiker over its neck and killed it. Meanwhile I had kicked the winded Brute in the crotch, and as it doubled over, I raised my leg and stomped on its head, cracking the ornamental helmet.

I blasted the Brute's head open with three shots from the DMR, then hefted its belt and extracted two Spike Grenades. Four Brutes were swarming Harris, so I rushed forward, pressing the tips of the grenades and slashed the serrated edges into the Brute's thick fur. The grenades stuck fast, and I hurled my body over Harris's. The grenades went off and several objects thucked into my grey backpack. I pulled one out- it was a ten centimetre long spike.

Another alien attacked me, an Elite, with a plasma rifle. I spun round and jammed the spike into the head of the Covenant gun, then kicked the Elite's fingers as hard as I dared. The animal howled, raising its four mandibles. I followed it up with a knee to the chest, breaking through the shielding. The Elite doubled over, and I pulled off the backpack and impaled the twenty or so needles stuck in it on the Elite's back. I stomped on the bag once, driving something through a vital organ. The Elite jerked and died. I pulled out the spikes from my backpack and wiped the blood off it, slinging it back over the shoulder. My eyes flicked from one situation to the next.

An Elite had Serena pinned up against the wall. The girl had managed to cut through his shields, and they had yet to recharge. I extracted a combat knife from my shoulder sheath, and tossed it with a flicking motion towards the Elite. The knife spun across the room and cut into the lizard's brain. Serena nodded her thanks, and rolled under the swipe of an energy sword.

It was all over in a few minutes. The hangar bay was relatively safe for the time being, and we were able to stock up on ammunition from the surviving Pelicans. "SMS Special Squad One has secured hangar bay one."

"SMS Special Squad Two has secured the second hangar bay." The two squads were made up of a combination of SMS Sword SPARTANs and SMS Skull ODST Squads. "Affirmative, all units. Push through to the objective point." came the order. One of the SPARTAN super-soldiers raised an electronic device and pointed at a door on the right wall. There was a brief bolt of electricity, and the doors hissed open with a ping.

We moved swiftly through the ship, eliminating the sparse resistance we encountered in the hallways. The first trouble we found was in the form of no less than four Hunters. MA5 fire bouncing harmlessly off their armour-plated bodies, they methodically began to batter at our small group. They managed to kill one SPARTAN and two ODSTs from Skull Four's unit before SMS Skull Two got their act together and finally got the Hunters out in the open with their heavy weapons.

Rockets shoomed out of their launchers, slamming into the Hunters and knocking them backwards at speed. The bodies hit the floor with a shudder, and the smell of burning flesh penetrated my helmet. I sneezed and followed the others onward. From there, our losses steadily mounted as the Covenant forces began to seriously mobilize, and by the time we reached the lift that would take us deep down into the belly of the ship, we were at 70% capacity.

One of the SPARTANs spoke into his radio. "SMS Special Squad one is at checkpoint. Mission capacity is at 70%."

"SMS Special Squad Two is approaching checkpoint now, capacity is at 79%."

"Affirmative, SMS units, we are sending in additional reinforcements of SMS Shadow Teams six and seven after you finish. Continue to the objective and execute mission instructions. Cruiser is now two-seven kilos from Point Orchard, ETA to VTOL Pads one half hours." We destroyed a battalion of Grunts led by four Elites that came down on the gravity lift, and stepped into the stream of purple particles. I had travelled on a gravity lift many times, but the sudden jolt and the sensation that you were floating still startled me. Every cell in my body cried out I was supposed to fall and to stop resisting Newton's laws, and it took quite a bit of reminding to stop me from flailing wildly.

The gravity stream jolted again, pushing us down with frightening speed. We rushed past nearly four levels of Covenant metal, then we rushed past a maybe thirty metre tall cylinder of light that forced us to turn off our visors. Then it was dark again, and I switched the night-vision back on. We were still falling, only that there was next to no light in this environment, only two or three dim grey Covenant lights suspended high above us.

The SPARTANs activated night-vision with a barely audible click. The gravity stream dumped us silently in the middle of a large empty room. The three lights overhead offered absolutely no help at all, and the helmet's computer calculated the new level of light magnification. The visor hummed as it increased power, and suddenly we were in a chamber lined with cages. Most of them were empty, but some housed decaying bodies. Human bodies. I shuddered. The SPARTANs, unaffected by the horror around us, simply looked around, and clanked towards the far end of the chambers.

We hurried after them, stomachs turning. There was a locked door at the end of the wall, and the hacker offered no way out. The SPARTAN holding it shrugged, put it back on his belt, wedged his massive fingers between the two sheets of metal, and barely grunting from the effort, forced the door wide open. He held one back while the rest of us went through, then let go. The doors hissed closed and locked, but they were sure to document the illegal access to the Covenant computers. Now the enemy knew what we were here for.

We were in another chamber, this one not as a prison, but a supply centre. It was much better lit than before, and crates upon crates of weapons, grenades, fuel and food sat around the massive room. Small creatures flitted around in the gloom, and bigger, hairy ones skittered on the floor. We pushed through another locked door, emerging in a massive, brightly lit chamber. Steam hissed from purple pipes, massive turbines roared, glowing blue liquid rush around in clear tubes. It was the engine room. Somewhere in here was the reactor that powered the glassing weapon.

Bloated, floating creatures hovered around in the air, energetically poking around the reactors, conducting minor repairs. One of them floated down to one of the SPARTANs, cackling oddly. The soldier reacted in a puzzled way, but didn't attack the Covenant. The alien floated around behind him, snorting in an exasperated tone when he turned to face it again, gun raised in case it did something strange. The alien floated round again, and shot something out of a blue glowing tentacle. Sparks danced over the SPARTAN's back, which had been damaged by a Hunter's horns, and suddenly, the metal creases folded over each other, perfect.

The alien went on to the next SPARTAN, methodically fixing minor details with ease. The humans looked at the relatively friendly alien with some kind of reserved gratitude. One of the SPARTANs reached out to touch the thing, but the alien suddenly withdrew with a startled squeal and floated quickly away to attend to something. We spun round to see the cause. Sixty Elites and four Hunters stood ready at the doors to the engine room. "Shit!" yelled someone from Skull Two as green energy spat out of the Hunter's cannons. The Elites split up, dashing around the hissing machinery to appear again, surrounding us. The first of the beams hit us, scattering the humans like bowling pins. The Elites pounced. A silver one jumped on top of me, growling as it fired up its Energy Sword.

I kicked it in the chest with both my feet, driving the beast off me and rolling my body to its feet. The Elite, unperturbed, lunged at me. I sidestepped neatly and grasped the Elite's wrist. I twisted it, causing bone to sprout out from the armour. The Elite dropped the sword. I snatched it up, leaving the DMR on the ground. I slashed across the Elite's chest, killing it. More Elites came at me, and a Hunter beam as well.

I rolled under the attacks, barely scraping past them all. This was not going well for us. We could deal with twenty Elites plus Hunters, but sixty was way too many. Two more SPARTANs fell, and SMS Skull Three was almost completely wiped out, with only two people left. We dashed across the rooms, ducking under bits of machinery as they exploded. The weird aliens that floated and repaired stuff went into a frenzy, furiously attacking anything damaged. I ducked behind a spinning reactor as I allowed one to restore my damaged visor, splintered from a Hunter's Assault Cannon.

We were down to half forces when suddenly, a Hunter was blown clean off its back by a rocket. As the aliens floated down squeaking and squealing anxiously, I took a look into the gloom. SMS Special Squad Two stood triumphantly in the ammunition room, a mixture of Sword SPARTANs and SMS Skull One, Five and Six. They went to work immediately. "Go! We'll hold them off while you get the reactor!" A waypoint appeared on my HUD- the objective. Everyone rushed towards it, leaping over burning machines and dead bodies.

The reactor was a giant spinning pool of superheated plasma, ready to discharge. A SPARTAN reached it before me, and smashed through the protective glass with a gloved fist. However, and Elite tackled him before he could prime a grenade and they both fell into the swirling orange and white liquid with a splash. I was second closest. "Five!" yelled Cutter. I looked up to see his rocket launcher spinning through the air, knocked clean of his hands by an Elite tackle.

I dashed onto of a humming metal reactor, jumped up, slid on the side of large pipe transporting coolant, and pushed off, snatching the tubes from the air. I was falling, but I aimed the rocket at the steamy pool of plasma and fired off two shots. I threw the bulky weapon away and grasped a thick rubbery rope pumping coolant to the reactors. I let go a metre from the end of the pipe and landed on an Elite, pushing to the ground. I caved its head in with a bash from the butt of the MA5, then turned around as my rockets hit the container of plasma. The first projectile missed, but the second shot was perfect. Instead of splashing into the liquid, the rocket hit the side of the round container, driving a side downwards. The swirling plasma liquid oozed out into the open, melting the floors with a hiss and exposing cold air. More plasma trickled out, dripping into the ocean below us.

"Run!" someone from SMS Skull Two screamed. The UNSC forces bolted for the doors, and a few seconds later, we were inside the ammunition chamber. I was one of the last ones out and as we ran through the doors leading out to the prisons, I turned around and grinned evilly at the Covenant forces giving chase. I dropped the grenade I had in my hand and bolted.


	11. Extraction

The grenade plinked on the ground. I bolted. We were just getting pulled into the air by the Grav-Lift when the explosive went off. It sounded like a cache of firecrackers going off. Staccato pops and bangs thundered through the ship, culminating in a massive blue plasma explosion that tore through the doors, floor and ceiling. Morales whistled softly. The gravity stream deposited us at the place where we started, as the cruiser suddenly began to list.

"That chain reaction you started must have detached a whole section from the cruiser." said Serena. "Really?" I asked. She opened up a live video feed from a Pelican outside the starship. A small chunk, possibly the ammunition cache and part of the engine room was separating itself from the rest of the Covenant ship, falling down in a burning chunk. "Amazing what grenades can do, eh?" observed Grafton as the whole section tore itself from the cruiser and started to fall in glorious slow motion.

Someone cleared his throat- loudly. It was Cutter. We looked up from the pad and saw the SPARTANs separating from the ODSTs and marching off to the left. 'We've still got the Plasma Torpedos to take care of. Once we're done with those, the UNSC can bring in a Frigate to take the ship out." The SMS Skull Squads were already moving. It was going to be a tad hard without the SPARTANs of Sword Squads helping us out. Skull One-One reported the mission start. "SMS Special Squad One and Two have split into SMS Skull Squads and SMS Sword Squads. Second Objective is being engaged now."

"Affirmative, Skull One-One, good work on the explosion too- I saw that from the AWACS Pelican." commented the operator, a rare moment of friendliness. "Thanks, SMS Command." We moved through the hallways, slogging our way through the trembling upper sections of the ship, while the SPARTANs moved out to the rear end, towards the Command Hub, nestled safely in the middle of the three dimensions of the cruiser. Serena provided Skull Four with a brief prediction of what we would encounter.

She held up the pad as we rested in the end of a hallway dotted with locked doors.

"The Ship-To-Ship Weaponry Control Centre is a rectangular room, with the door we'll come in through just under a bridge, containing the necessary computers and personnel to fire the guided plasma weapons. We can destroy that, but it would be more logical to go after the easier prey- the Plasma Torpedo Launchers. They are located at the far end of the room, one to each side. There are four in total; each will be protected by a thick metal guard which, according to our research, is impervious to small arms fire. To destroy it, we either directly shoot one of the FLASH II rockets that Shadow Squad will be bringing- they've got the armour-piercing version, so it will be easy for them, or throw a grenade near it. After the mechanism is destroyed, the actual loading tubes for the weapons will be exposed. Toss another explosive into it, and it will crumple up and prevent any firing."

"How are we gonna get there?" asked Harris. "We're already on the right track. There will be some sparse resistance from the forces in the corridors, but most of them are engaging SMS Shadow Squad. Some of Sword Squad are making their way back to the hangar bay to assist." replied Serena, getting up and trudging off after the others. Morales sighed and heaved himself to his feet. Pulling back the safety lever with a snick, he waved us up and we followed the SMS Squads.

We had gone up another central Grav-Lift, which dumped us in a chamber not far from the objective- unfortunately, some Skirmishers and Elites were also trying to go down. Plasma rounds hissed through the air as we backpedalled frantically, avoiding the gap which housed the lift. Three Skirmishers lunged at me in a joint assault, plasma pistol overcharged and ready to fire. I pulled on the arm of one sinewy bird-like alien, firing its blast past me and into the wall. I tossed the scrawny Skirmisher over my head, using its body to absorb the green ball of plasma coming my way.

The shot hit the alien, sending a violent shudder through its frame. Before it even had a chance to shriek in pain, I hurled it at the Skirmisher that had fired off the shot. I ducked behind the final green ball coming from behind me as I heard the unmistakeable discharge sound the plasma pistols made when the trigger was released. I lashed my leg out, catching the Skirmisher as it tried frantically to cool the lowing weapon down. The bird fell over, and I caved its skull in with a boot to the head.

An Elite dressed in bulky ceremonial armour rushed at me, roaring wildly and brandishing the glowing blue energy spear it held in its hand. "This is gonna suck." I muttered, throwing out my outstretched fingers. I curled my hand a few centimetres past the dangerous blue tip of the weapon. The Elite gave a startled "humph?" as its blade halted millimetres from my stomach. I pushed down on the spear handle, flipping the monstrous alien over my head. The Elite let go of the spear, and I threw it spinning towards two pillars.

The spear spun wildly through the air, lodging firmly into the purple metal and leaving a deep gash in both pillars. The Elite charged at me and I sprinted for the spear. My hands grabbed the metal handle, and I let my momentum propel me over the stick, back around, and I kicked both feet into the massive creature's stomach. The yellow and red decorated alien staggered backwards and dropped into the Grav-Lift. As a parting gesture, Serena turned the device off.

I retrieved the spear from the pillars and twirled it in my hands. "You gonna leave the assault rifle?" asked Cutter.

"It's almost out of ammo." I replied, retracting the energy head into the grey metal handle. The leader grunted and trooped off towards the control room. "Uh-Oh." said Serena after a little of two minutes of good solid marching, "The ship's communications just relayed a message. The forces in the hangar have let SMS Shadow Squad through their defences, but we've got a sizeable force coming up after them-and us."

"Any good news?" asked Harris.

"The Covenant is shitting their pants over the fact that they've got eight 'Demons' heading towards them. SMS Shadow Squad Two is coming to join us; they will catch us to us in five minutes, maybe a bit more, depending on the level of resistance we encounter."

The Covenant was putting up quite a fight, and we had to get through them faster than before, given the fact there was now another force moving into position behind us. The energy spear I had grabbed proved to be surprisingly effective, slashing through the minor ranks and spearing the larger Brutes and Elites while keeping a safe distance from their powerful melee attacks. On some occasions it could be thrown across the room and would impale several enemies, killing or pinning them to a wall so that I could easily pick them off with the DMR.

After about ten minutes of fire with two Hunters, SMS Shadow Squad Two appeared in the doorway just to our left. Skull One-One shook hands with Two-One. "Good to see you made it." As Serena had predicted, half of them held the massive four-barrelled FLASH-II rocket launcher, painted snow-grey instead of the usual olive green. The other members of the squad wielded DMRs and MA5s, probably to provide covering fire for the others as they took out the launchers.

We advanced through two more sets of doors and arrived at the massive gates to the objective. We pressed ourselves to the walls just outside the doors. Skull One-One counted down silently from his fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

SMS Shadow Squad barged through the doors, two FLASH II operators crouching on the ground and aiming their weapons, while four DMR wielding SMS operatives stood behind them, empting their weapons at the various alien dotting the room. It had the intended effect. The Grunts and Elites lifting various pieces of machinery dropped what they were doing and sprinted for cover. The FLASH II launchers boomed, and two white smoke trails streaked across the room, hitting the walls and blowing them open, revealing holes and machinery.

Two misses. The squads stormed in through the narrow chamber, exchanging fire with the Covenant guards that had managed to get to their weapons. Plasma batteries were littered all over the room, and Cutter raised one hand from his M7 and shouted, "Target those batteries!" I centred my sights on one with a healthy amount of Grunts clustered around it, exchanging fire with SMS Skull One. Three yellow streaks burst through the air, landing in a brace directly in the middle of the glowing cube.

The Grunts flew across the room, arms flailing. More FLASH II rocket blasted over my head, this time landing safely in the centre of the first plasma torpedo tube. "One down! Get to the next one!" The man who had fired threw his spent rocket casing to the ground and slotted a new cube in with a fresh quadruplet of missiles. "Last mag!" he shouted. We moved quickly across the room, efficiently emptying our guns into any Covenant creature that crossed our sights.

Blue plasma fire sizzled through the air as the first of the Covenant reinforcements charged through the doors. Two marines raised grenades and hurled them through the air, landing them a few metres away from the first few Brutes. I turned my back to the battle and kept firing at the aliens milling about in front of me. The last four FLASH II rockets blasted into the torpedo tube, and SMS Skull One-One shouted, "All units fall back!" We slowly backed out of the room, exchanging fire all the while with the remaining Covenant soldiers.

The Cruiser tilted as it turned towards its objective. "SMS Command to SMS units, request a sitrep."

"This is SMS Skull and Shadow combine, we've just completed our objectives- moving to hangar bay for extraction."

"SMS Sword Squad here, we're at the control room. Encounter heavy resistance, but we've taken no casualties after the last mission update. Expect to be completed within ten minutes- Kelly! Lay those charges!"

We hustled back through the blown open doorways, fighting off sparse resistance, which managed to deplete my DMR. I dropped the useless weapon and scooped up a too-big Covenant Carbine. We burst into the hangar- deserted. "SMS Skull and Shadow are at the hangar now; we're waiting for the SPARTANs."

"This Sword Squad, we're on our way. Get ready to cover us."

"Roger. All units get ready for some action!"

We barely had enough time to set up a semi-ready defensive position when the doors at the left of the room pinged open, and the eight remaining SPARTANs of Sword Squad burst out, firing their weapons behind them. SMS Skull Two, positioned right at the entrance, immediately crouched down and emptied their tubes into the Covenant rolling down the hallway. Their weapons expended, they packed up and ran behind Skull One and began to reload. One-One shucked his shotgun, and led his squad in a valiant stand against the aliens intent on getting to the SPARTANs.

"Fall back!" he ordered and the squad started to withdraw, plasma fire melting into the armour. "Everyone, into the Spirit!" shouted the SPARTAN who had given me the laser attachment for the MA5. I spun round and started running. The Covenant transport already had an IFF transponder attached to the right prong, and was floating just above the ground, bays open, ready to move.

The Squads rushed in, planting feet into the pressure pads located on the metal floor. We turned around and fired our guns til metal roll cages, activated by the pads, finally dropped into place over our chests. I fit the Carbine easily into the Covenant weapon slot, but the energy staff proved difficult to place in any slot I tried, so I dropped it on the floor. We were standing uncomfortably in the cages until the SPARTAN pilot landed the Spirit on the newly captured Pelican landing pads.

Somebody rapped-loudly- on the thin metal doors of the troop bay. The SPARTAN deployed the bay, and the man leapt back with a yelp as the energy spear rolled outside and plinked onto the ground. The roll cages disengaged, and I jumped down, landing lightly on the sand-covered asphalt. I looked around. The area was in pretty good condition, judging by the fact that the Covenant had only just retreated. Alien bodies were being dumped into the sea in great masses, floating away. The storm was retreating, allowing sun to shine on the trees that clustered on the large island. Some pillars of smoke plumed out from where the last Covenant towers burned.

"Heads up boys!" shouted a sergeant, pointing up into the sun. I craned my neck upwards, as did everybody on the Spirit. Four dots appeared in the sky, transforming into a tiny squadron of UNSC Frigates. The ships grew steadily larger and louder until they thundered over our heads, bending the trees with the wind picked up from its flight. Radio communications started invading our coms line.

"Target located, we'll be in firing range in two-four seconds."

"Excellent. Radar, any signatures?"

"No ship-to-ship firing signatures detected. Only close-in defence systems are online. They're sitting ducks, sir."

"Weapons, what's your status?"

"Main MAC is ready to fire. We're also prepping Archer pods ten to forty."

"Good. Helm, decrease speed to six knots."

"Aye aye, Generator answering six knots ahead, redline in two hours."

"Covenant Cruiser is launching Seraph and Tarasque fighters! More that forty radar signatures all armed with plasma torpedos! They'll be within firing range in six seconds!"

"Weapons, slave targeting system to Radar! All ships, engage those fighters!"

"Roger!" The Frigates spewed white trails of smoke as the Archer missiles screamed out of their pods, rushing through the air, and several dozen blue circles of plasma dotted the horizon as the missiles found their marks. "Six contacts still on scopes! They're launching! Six plasma signatures on scopes!"

"Weapons, spin up close in defence system."

"Aye sir, Phalanx neutralisers' online, beginning initial targeting." The six blue plasma weapons zoomed in towards the silver chunky shape of the Frigates, and then the walls of the USNC starships erupted in tiny dots of flames, spitting out hundreds of thousands of tiny anti-plasma EMP shells that swarmed towards the six blue streaks. The torpedos detonated safely, six hundred metres away from the Frigates. We all cheered.

"Cruiser is beginning to spin up auxiliary engines; it seems to be heading towards us."

"Weapons begin MAC primary charge. Slave MAC targeting system to Radar."

"Aye sir, MAC targeting system is now connected to Radar. Primary generator spooling up, power is transferring smoothly off the engines."

"All ships continue MAC charge, advise when they're ready." The USNC starships' exhausts dimmed slightly as the MAC generators leeched some power off the engines, storing it in powerful accumulators, keeping it until it was ready to be released. "Radar, keep close tabs on the cruiser. I don't want it suddenly opening up a barrage on us."

"Aye sir, all monitoring equipment is on the cruiser. Cruiser is designated as target, callsign Master 1."

The radio chatter continued for a few more minutes as the frigate hovered in front of us, never moving, and the Covenant ship, which had probably realised it was screwed but was going into attempt a suicidal run on our island loomed out of the clouds and rocketed towards us. "Sir, Master 1 is increasing thrust to ramming speed, recommend evasive measures."

"How your ground… Weapons, what's the status of the MAC?"

"MAC is fully charged, now loading shell. We'll be ready to fire shortly."

"Right. Advise when the MAC is ready." We stood and watched the Covenant ship get bigger and bigger. "The MAC must be ready to fire now…" muttered Morales, shifting uncomfortably as the Cruiser got within a range that was starting to get a little bit hairy.

Right on cue, "MAC is fully loaded and ready for launch."

"Weapons, safeties off, Radar begin engagement calculations."

"Aye sir, beginning targeting formulas…. Calculations complete. Targeting system is transferring data now."

"Good. Jonah, once again, I want the crew to do this one hundred percent by themselves. No interference."

"Fine Admiral. Though I would definitely recommend an engagement performed eighty seven percent by me-"

"The crew haven't had a live-firing test since two months. They could do with the drill. Meanwhile, I want you to maintain your radar scans for any nasties sneaking up behind us." The ship-borne AI muttered something quickly about being bored, but nevertheless went off the air.

"This is Weapons, data received, request a slave of the yaw thrusters…"

"Aye. Generators slave the yaw thrusters to Weapons."

"Aye, establishing data connection now."

"We're connected. MAC is locked on."

"Blast the bastard! All ships engage!"

"That's a go, Reynolds, fire her up!" I couldn't see it from my perspective, but I had seen it happen before. First, aperture shutters covering the muzzle of the cannons would revolve open, revealing the giant barrels. Then, the inside of the barrels began to glow white-hot, gathering energy in order to fire the 144-ton shells out at more than 3,000 times the speed of sound.

"MAC, Fire!" A bright beam of light exploded out from the ships' front; even I could see it as it entered my line of sight and streaked across the sky. I knew I was only watching the slow-moving superheated gases and melted tungsten that was shredded by the MAC rounds. The thing had probably hit already. Sure enough, a bright spark flash from the Covenant cruiser as the huge shells punched through the shields and crashed into the front of the starship. Less than a millisecond later, the back of the ship, missing a small chunk, exploded into little pieces as the shells exited.

The Cruiser continued to hold its course, but the suddenly started to shear itself apart as the devastating effects of the MAC rounds finally revealed itself. The cruiser's graceful prow slowly started to crumble, as beams and thick girders damaged by the MAC strike failed and collapsed. The Cruiser continued on as its engines flickered, starting to starve without the functional bridge.

It was still getting closer though. "Shit…" breathed the skipper of the frigate. "Take cover!" barked a commanding officer. Everybody rushed for somewhere to hide as the purple starship, trailing smoke and starting to get peppered with tiny blue explosions as defensive weaponry started to corrupt and overload as the surviving onboard AI dumped bad plasma into the system in an attempt to sustain the engines. The squad and a few other soldiers and medics dived into a recently dug mass grave for the soldiers that had yet to be filled in. The Frigate overhead shook as the admiral barked, "Fire emergency lift thrusters! Get us over that cruiser!"

"Affirmative." replied Jonah, already onto the task. He blasted open giant holes containing shaped charges in the hull of the frigate, then fired the explosives. The Frigate jumped several hundred feet up as massive explosions billowed outward, not damaging the hull in any way. The USNC starships continued to climb, continuing up into the sky as the Covenant cruiser passed underneath, whooshing past over our heads, the head nearly scraping the treeline.

The cruiser's twin stabilising fins brushed the ground and crumpled when it hit the trees at the very edge of the island. They gave in, and the ship burst into blue plasma fires and black billowing smoke, completely enveloping the entire back half of the starship and giving it an effect like a meteor falling into the sea. More explosions set rubble flying high up into the air, trailing red and blue fizzling remains of useable and expired plasma.

Huge pieces of hull and machinery rained down on us. One struck the ground where I lay awkwardly with a wet splatch. Sand fell around our squad, gradually diminishing as the final bits hit ground. The destroyed cruiser ploughed front-first into the shimmering blue sea. It skidded for a few hundred metres before finally bringing its battered tail down with a colossal splash.

Already the ONI birds were in the air, coming from who knows where. They quickly made their way towards the fast sinking starship, single mounted turret making short work of the small amounts of Covenant attempting to make their way into the water via some emergency escapes or big holes blown open by the bad plasma or MAC. Their job was to salvage anything of value inside the ship before it was completely destroyed or otherwise rendered inaccessible-that is, computer files, Covenant weaponry, anything that could give us extra intelligence on them.

The green D77-TC Pelican dropships and UH-144 Falcons buzzed about the starship, dropping ropes and sending ONI operatives into the ship. The base erupted in a cheer. "Nice work, crew." said the skipper of the USNC frigate. "Jonah, fire up primary generator. Take us back into orbit."

"Affirmative." replied the AI, then the frigates' four massive drivers thundered to life, spewing purple and orange flames. The starships blasted off into the sky, then looped around and roared over our heads, screaming over the destroyed cruiser and beginning a climb into low orbit.


	12. Contacts

It had been a few months since the capture of the VTOL pads. We had managed to evacuate all the designated citizens from these pads before the Covenant reappeared in force, packing over six cruisers and one assault carrier. We had fought hard, and managed to destroy two cruisers and severely damage another, and also dealt a minor blow to the carrier's engines, leaving it inoperable for a few days, taking most of the pressure off us for a few days until the Engineers, as ONI called them, got the engines back up and running.

Our losses before we withdrew were more than 300 UNSC Marines, 45 SPARTAN-IIIs, and 3 SPARTAN-IIs, and more than 180 ODSTs. Vehicle totals included more than 60 Pelicans, 54 Falcons, 15 Mantas, 72 Hornets, 56 Scorpion tanks and 40 Warthogs and Mongooses. SMS Forces suffered a total of 8 SPARTAN-IIIs and 38 ODSTs. SMS vehicles destroyed had totalled 6 Pelicans, 2 Falcons, and 4 Hornets.

SMS pulled out early, and the UNSC retreated two days later. It turns out we were saved from an outrageously aggressive assault by the Covenant, with another three CPV-class Destroyers and a single massive Battleship, which rained down a rentless barrage of plasma. We met up with the standard forces at the final remaining checkpoint of Reach, where the absolute last 5,000,000 or so people were waited for the four colony ships to arrive. Once the Phoenix-class starships arrived, we were to accompany the civilians up into orbit and defend them while they were transferred as quickly as we could to the ships via Pelicans.

In the meanwhile, we were busy setting up defences that would provide adequate defence from the incoming Covenant forces, but would be easy to pack up and leave as soon as the final man, woman and child was safely off the surface. We would follow soon after and board a ship known as the _Pillar of Autumn_. I heaved the last of the sandbags we were piling up onto the .50 Cal emplacements. All the Marines and SPARTANs were spread out in a V shaped formation in small camps leading up to the massive plateau that the Pelicans sat, waiting for the first of the civilians to board. The entire USNC vehicle force sat ready to go at the edge of the site.

Satisfied with my work, I wiped a hand over my sweating forehead and turned around to survey our little group's camp, planting both hands on my hips. I was astounded by the fact that there was still a blue sky and white clouds drifting peacefully overhead. This section was the last part of Reach to be glassed. The smoky wastelands burned more than 300 kilometres away. Morales staggered over carrying the massive .50 Cal machinegun, and planted it heavily on the ground, pulling some of the sandbags over the tripod. "Done." He declared.

"How's the nest going?" asked Cutter, connecting two wires together that snaked off down the hills into the vast valley-like plains underneath. "A bit more foliage and it should be completely invisible." grunted Grafton as he helped Serena drag some tree limbs over a small hole showing up in our sniper nest. "Good." said Cutter, getting up and scanning the skies. Apart from the sporadic Pelican arriving or departing with civilians, nothing. "This is making me nervous." he muttered, picking up the radio that sat on a long used as a bench.

"Skull Six, you there?"

"Yeah." radioed Harris.

"Any bandits?" he asked, using the air force terminology.

"Negative. No movements I can see." I could imagine Harris, perched on top of a tree maybe 580 metres away from us, lifting his binoculars and sweeping the grasslands in the valley. A bird squawked somewhere nearby. I sat down on the sunlight-speckled ground and popped a can of soft drink. "Well," I said, chugging down the contents, "We'll just have to wait it out." Day became night. Harris came back, and it was my turn to take up spotter duty.

I threw some instant coffee, four MREs, and an H3-receptor antagonist injection to keep me up during the night into my silver ODST backpack. I shouldered my new sniper rifle and disappeared into the trees. I followed Harris's foot trails as best as I could in the dark without turning on a light, and found myself at the spotter's tree. Harris had scraped out a set of foot and hand holds on the trunk, and I hauled my body up into the perch. It was nothing much a piece of wood to sit on and a radio. Harris had the good sense to leave a pillow at the site.

There was a light fastened to the base of a tree limb, and I scanned the rest of the forest for the spotters. They would turn up soon, I thought, glancing at my watch. Sure enough, one light flashed three times. I reached out and flashed the dim spot-light once, twice, three times, four times, then quickly did the SMS letters in Morse. SMS Skull One flashed in, then Two, Three, and finally Five and Six together. We had all safely made it to the trees.

I pulled the pillow up against the trunk and leaned against it, then raised my computerised binoculars to make my first sweep. The land lit up in ghostly green, I scanned the area carefully and slowly to allow the computer to make an identification of everything I looked at. Nothing. I sat back and waited thirty minutes, then tried again. I continued for two hours, using up two packets of coffee and my injection. This time I had more luck. A single patrol of a Brute and six Jackals were picking their way slowly towards SMS Skull Two's position.

I pressed the transmit button on the radio, and called Cutter. "Skull Five, report in."

"I've got a patrol, probably recon."

"Take them out." I clicked the radio off and snapped the safety off the new SRS 99 I had, already modified to the best I could make it. It sacrificed the 0.5 machinegun barrel for a silencer, a bayonet and a ten times zoom function.

I screwed in the silencer and took aim, pressing the zoom function three times. The Brute's head was centred nicely in the middle of the target. I shifted slightly to compensate for the wind and bullet speed, and squeezed the trigger. A single white streak of gel exploded out from the barrel, wobbling slightly before settling down into a dead straight line. I watched the bullet smack into the Brute's head, toppling the creature and sending its charges into confusion. I flashed the light two times and draped a red cloth over it, turning the light red, signalling an attack near Skull Two's position. Unfortunately, that also gave away my position. A white hot beam of light crackled across the plain with a high-pitched warble, smacking into the trunk of the tree.

Two's sniper replied with four loud shots, then flashed four times and a green light- all clear. I sighed and sat back again. The rest of the night passed without incident. I had consumed everything in my pack by the time the sun rose, signalling the end of my watch. I sighed, flashed the light to sign out and slid down the trunk. I passed Morales, who was carrying a S2 AM he got from somewhere with a brief greeting and arrived back at the base. "Good Morning." greeted Serena, coating her bullets. "Hi. I'm hitting the sack. If something happens wake me up." I declared, throwing myself on the leaf-covered floor and falling asleep.

I woke up in time to scarf down a horrible MRE pack and coat my bullets before Morales radioed back from his perch. "I got a whole bunch of Covies inbound, at least ten Choppers, followed by more than forty Ghosts, and a whole lot of Wraiths. Dead straight course to the extraction site."

A metallic screeching rippled overhead, then Morales swore loudly and hissed, "Banshees and Spirits too! Tell home plate we're gonna have to put in a tough fight!"

Grafton, Serena and I glanced at each other in silent shock, then burst into action. "Serena, you get home plate informed. You, get Cutter back here." I dashed off into the undergrowth, yelling for Cutter. He was washing his face in a small stream. "Get up! Invasion!" I shouted, pulling him away from his towel. Cutter swore and led the way back to the base.

We got back in time to see Serena finish her call. "Home plate is sending out our main forces to attack. The civilians are around 30% evacuated." We started strapping on our armour, fastening belts, pressurising helmets and releasing safeties. "Morales, get back here." commanded Cutter, snicking the safety off the .50 Cal. "Roger, I'm coming back. Have you got my explosives fired up?"

"No, we don't have a clue what to do!"

"Don't worry, I'll do it." Morales dismissed, trampling through the forest. Grafton hunched over the machinegun, pulling off the red canvas safety covering the barrel as Cutter draped rows and rows of ammunition belts onto the sand-bags. "SMS Command to SMS Forces, Covenant armour inbound. All SMS aircraft and anti-aircraft defences to engage Covenant air units. All SMS infantry and armour units to engage Covenant ground units. Continue with your individual instructions."

Morales charged into the base, sliding to a halt next to the mass of wires he had set up two days before. The man started snapping wires and electronics together, while making a broadcast on the Skull radio. "SMS Skull Four-Four to SMS Five-Two, you ready?"

"Ready. I can see them now." We were hidden very well, and the Covenant weren't suspecting anything as they zoomed towards us. I raised the sniper rifle and looked through. Brutes sat behind the Choppers, snarling viciously, while Elites and Grunts manned the Ghosts and Wraiths. "Don't shoot yet." reminded Serena, laying a hand on my shoulder as she looked through her scope.

"Right." The Covenant aircraft buzzed overhead, heading in a massive formation towards the extraction zone. A flight of six Pelicans lifted off from the buildings and immediately entered a hurried climb into space, while six more came in from the other side of the base, landing away from the Covenant aircraft. "Covenant forces are within 750 metres of point Bravo…" announced SMS Command. Morales swore and began clicking switches together with increased speed.

"Done!" he yelled triumphantly as the Chopper's roars began to increase volume. The demolition expert retrieved a small button from his pocket and thumbed off the safety. "Covenant ground forces within 250 metres…"

"SMS Skull Five-Two is done at his end, what about you?"

"We're finished. Start the countdown."

"Roger. Execute in T-minus 2 minutes."

I fiddled with the sights, fine-tuning them for maximum accuracy. Grafton shifted uneasily from his position crouching down in front of the machinegun, and ran another check. The seconds ticked by. "T-minus 10 seconds." droned SMS Skull Five-Two robotically, then began a hushed countdown.

"9."

"8."

"7."

"6."

"5."

"4."

"3." Morales hunched over, hand itching to activate.

"2"

"1."

"Execute!" roared Skull Five-Two. Morales jammed down on the button, and I switched my gaze out to the plains as the line of explosives buried deep in the earth fired. Seventy huge fountains of brown dirt erupted in a waterfall high up in the air. "Yes!" roared Morales triumphantly, pumping his fist and reaching for his M45 shotgun.

The Covenant force stalled as the explosions engulfed the Choppers, sending parts high into the air, then the Ghosts skidded right into the massive trenches left by the C7, swerving around as their gravity propulsion drives fought for purchase on the lumpy ground. Most of the Ghosts flipped as the systems tiled them violently left and right, and Grafton opened fire, as did every single other .50 Cal. in the valley. The aliens exploded into bloody messes as the huge shells thwacked into their bodies.

"Harris! Get the Wraiths!"

"On it!" the ODST shouldered the SPNKR rocket launcher and fired off the two rounds into the Covenant tanks. The two rockets blasted out of the trees and shoomed into the tanks, causing major damage to three Wraiths. More rockets rushed in from the Skull and ODST units, decimating the ranks of the Covenant. The Covenant assault faltered and quickly turned into a bungled retreat, most of the Elites turning round and gunning full throttle back towards base camp.

The air battle, however, wasn't going so well. Bits and pieces of burning wreckage crunched down into the trees, and Covenant and USNC aircraft whizzed past overhead with squeals and roars. Grafton turned the barrel of the machinegun upwards and stitched a thin line of bullets into the fuselage of a Banshee as it screeched past. The aircraft wobbled unsteadily and exploded. Fuel Rod Cannon rounds smashed into the ground near our position, setting a large patch of forest ablaze. We remained at our posts, shooting at anything Covenant that whooshed by. "Relocate! Fall back to Camp B!" commanded Cutter, waving us into the bush. Without a moment hesitation, Grafton stowed the .50 Cal. and tucked it up over his shoulder, and led the way out. Covenant Spirits began to land, dropping squads of Covenant troopers not far from our position.

I slowed and turned around, shoving Morales and Serena past me. "Go! Go! I'll hold them off for a while!" I unslung my rifle, snapping the safety off and pressing my visor into the scope. I centred the crosshairs on the first red-armoured Elite leading the way. I fired, pulled back on the bolt action, jamming a new shell into to waiting barrel, then pulled back, clicking the bullet into a firing position.

The first bullet smacked into the reptile's chests, passing through its heart and exploding out its back. The shell's speed kept it going straight into the next Grunt's head, snapping the Covenant species back and onto the grassy earth. I fired again, this time managing to score a head-shot on the injured Domo Major.

I racked up for another shot, took it, then a fuel rod cannon round blossomed right in front of me, throwing me to the floor and blinding my VISOR. "Shit." I muttered, putting my hands over my head and waiting for the icy tingle of an energy sword to plunge into my back. But that didn't come. Instead, four sniper rifle reports boomed out from somewhere behind me.

'What the?"

"Your rifle's just a little bit to the left of you! Pick it up and follow my voice!" I brushed out painfully with my left and curled my fingers around the scope of the SRS99 Custom, dragging it towards my body, then turned around and began to forcefully and slowly pull myself towards Serena. More of her S2 AM rifle shells whizzed overhead, impacting with wet thuds as they hit flesh.

"Almost there…" she coaxed. I scrambled uphill the last couple of metres, then her hand grasped mine and I hauled my aching body upright. The ODST led me through the forest, not stopping until we arrived at what would have appeared as Camp B. I pulled off my helmet and gave it a look-over. The CPU mounted in the back of the helmet had been damaged, rendering the VISOR mode unusable.

I turned VISOR off with a double-tap of the control button. It flickered and remained stubbornly pure-white. I swore- the cost of replacing the SMS helmet would be taken out directly from my pay check. "Quick- set up the .50 Cal. over there. The rest of you set up a defensive position facing our two o'clock. The two snipers, camp back behind me, take out the unit commanders, Morales, get on the turret. Grafton, you go out front, flank 'em from behind." Cutter directed.

"Roger." Grafton melted into the bushes, and the rest of us quickly set up a hasty defensive position. Morales had the machinegun pointed down the hill, and the rest of us were in front of him, except for me and Serena, who were nestled in a bush with our scopes over Morales's head. In less than a minute, the first frightened Grunt waddled up, sniffing the air tentatively. Morales opened fire, shredding the alien's face with machinegun rounds.

Before the Grunt's body had even hit the ground, the rest of the Covenant forces were upon us, ducking behind trees as Morales opened up the turret, shredding a slow-moving Skirmisher. I centred my scopes on the tree that a Major Domo was pressed against and pulled the trigger. My rifle barked, and the bullet snapped through the tree, imbedding itself in the red-armoured lizard's head. "He's down!" I yelled, pulling back the bolt action. Two Minors charged out roaring recklessly at the death of their commander, and Serena, lying next to me fired off her magazine, nailing all of them.

As she slammed another clip home, I finished returning the bolt and took aim again, blowing a Brute Chieftain's brains out as it attempted to help. Morales cut down several Grunts as they attempted to flee with the machinegun, and suddenly Grafton burst out of the shrubs behind the Covenant, shucking Morale's shotgun. We were arranged perfectly- Grafton behind the Covenant, his 12-gauge shells eating up the Elites or Brutes that tried to retreat, and Morales up front, keeping the enemies at bay with his .50 Cal, keeping the pesky Jackal snipers away from us so we could shoot with ease.

Within a matter of minutes, a bloody pile of bodies lay at the base of the hill that B was situated, felled by SMS Skull Four's constant fire. Grafton hiked laboriously back up to us, shotgun slung over one arm. Cutter took his hand and dragged him up the last couple of metres. The ODST was covered in small burns and wounds from his close encounters with the Covenant. Still, he was in relatively good shape, and after a quick dose of morphine and bio-foam, he was up and on his feet, ready to fight.

More aliens surged up the hill, the Elites sending the Grunts in first to eat at our ammunition, then when Morales paused to drape a new belt of bullets into the gun, six Elites supported by three Brutes rushed at our position, firing in all directions. "Shit!" shouted Morales, hurriedly clearing out a jam on the belt while all of us concentrated our fire over his head. But with so many rounds flying through the air, it was hard to keep a steady sight, and most of our shots went wide. Serena's rifle boomed next to my unprotected ears, causing an annoying high-pitched whine.

Morales pushed the handles of the .50 Cal. into the air as one of the Elites leapt into the sky, plasma rifle overheating. The machinegun started in an instant, and the alien was knocked backwards by the sheer volume of shells smacking into its body. As the Minor Domo fell out of the air and rolled down the hill in a crumpled mess, the other Covenant aliens made it to Morales's position and attacked, the Elites going in charging their energy swords, the Brutes simply attempting to crumple the ODST into bits with their massive fist.

We rushed to protect Morales, who had rolled away as soon as he realised the 50. Cal gun would be of no use. I leapt out of cover, leaving the SRS99 on the ground and drawing my M6D. I fired half the magazine at the Elite's body, feeling the reassuring jerk of the slide opening and the massive 12.7X40 mm bullet casing fly out over my arm, and watching the semi-armour piercing, high-explosive rounds strike the Elite's shields as it raised its arm to pummel Morales into the ground.

The shields flared and failed, sending a visible shock through the Elite's body as the small generator located on its back overload, and sent a charge through the torso of the creature. Morales took the opportunity, taking the Elite's chest and using it to block a swipe a Brute swung at him, letting the fist connect with the side of the Elite's face, sending the alien flying out of Morale's grip and onto the ground, where he lay unconscious.

Cutter's M2B flashed, the carbine shells sizzling towards the Brutes attempting to get in a few hits. The giant ape-like mammal's less powerful battery-powered armour popped and crackled as the SAP-HE rounds started hammering at the small energy barrier created by the battery. Cutter continued pouring rounds into the Brutes, and suddenly a battery died, releasing the last bits of energy it contained in a small flash of plasma, and simultaneously disengaging the useless power armour to increase the Brute's mobility, and releasing a charge through the ape's body to agitate it into its berserker stage.

The charge worked, and the Brute roared ferociously, beginning a lunge at Cutter. The leader calmly dropped his carbine, drew his knife, and ducked as the Brute sailed over his head. Cutter stabbed at the Brute's stomach, swinging through the thick skin and hair, and as the Brute staggered through its berserker –induced rage, he spin kicked it in the face, smashing its cheek and dropping it.

More Brutes rushed us, snarling angrily and revealing their mouths full of dangerously sharp teeth. I sidestepped one and drove my knife through its battery, feeling the plasma energy shake the metal tip of the blade and splash against the rubber guard. The Brute fell forward as a lethal shock raced through its body as the fully-charged battery dispersed its charge into it. A Brute Captain Major, wielding a massive Brute Shot rushed at us, firing its belt of grenades in a few seconds.

I ducked as the large explosives buzzed overhead, blasting the small campsite to pieces. "Stay away from that thing!" yelled Grafton, offloading a blast of 8. Gauge shells into an Elite's chest. I backed away slowly as the Chieftain, grinning nastily, advanced forward, keeping us at bay. Morales disengaged himself from the last Elite's grasp and attacked the Captain Major. The ODST used his considerable strength to knock the Brute forwards mas it attempted to grab Serena.

The ape flexed its back and knocked Morales to the ground, then turned around to stomp on his chest. I thought I saw Morales grin evilly behind his damaged, flickering VISOR as the Brute raised its foot. "Get out of there, Morales!" shouted Cutter.

The foot came down, and Morales pulled something out of his armour and jabbed it through the Brute's boot. The Captain howled in pain, and Morales rolled away as the Zero Point Ground Impact grenade, commonly known as ZPGI grenade detonated, blowing the Chieftain into bits with its small concentrated explosive. The ZPGI grenades were used for heavy demolition by SMS forces, knocking down walls with its inward-concentrated explosions. It was usually stabbed into concrete by pressing and holding the activation button, which replaced the pin of USNC grenades. The grenade would extend a tungsten tipped spike, which would drive into the wall and secure the grenade, which would explode, directing its forces inward.

There were three Brutes left- all of them started to begin a tentative retreat, growling softly and keeping their weapons trained on us, while we kept our guns on them. Suddenly, one of the Brute Majors tipped forward, blue armour fizzling pathetically as Harris leapt out from the trees, DMR blazing. I turned and grabbed for my rifle as the other Brutes spun round in shock. Harris used the metal body of the gun to parry a Spiker slash, then as the other alien threw a Spike grenade at him, Harris pivoted, snatched the stick-like bomb out of the air and returned it to the Brute as the spikes activated.

As the Brute exploded, I nailed the other one with two shots from the SRS99. Harris looked up at us all, and silently pointed at the massive ground war raging in front of us. We hurried to join in.


	13. Retreat

The UNSC Scorpions trundled into position around us, their giant 90mm cannons whirring as the swivelled around to take shots at the reapproaching Covenant armour. The human infantry and armour had arranged themselves in an arrowhead formation designed to pierce through the Wraiths lobbing their ordinance at us and wreak havoc to the soft infantry inside.

"Delta Team, move up! Gamma, take point three! SMS forces listen up! You're gonna drop in right in front of us, and take out anything you can!" barked a sergeant, waving his hands like a traffic warden. We were again sitting on a Scorpion's tread guards, swivelling shields mounted and ready. The giant tank was in turn attached to the rear section of a SMS Pelican dropship being fuelled up for their flight.

It was just over two hours into the battle, and UNSC casualties were mounting. The civilian evacuation was proceeding at a crawling pace as the Air Force attempted to swat away the Banshees and Phantoms wheeling above us. It was the second time to Covenant had attempted to counterattack; the first wave had been beaten back only a few hours before. UNSC starships descended to high atmosphere to provide fire support a few minutes ago, but they still had difficulty targeting the small Seraphs flitting around them and chipping away from their armour.

"Pelican 1 liftoff confirmed. Pelican 2 liftoff clearance granted. SMS Shark Pelicans move to pad 4 and begin liftoff procedures." radioed the tower.

"SMS Shark squadron to Tower, roger that, moving now." White Pelicans roared overhead, distinctive against the dull olive of everything else. "Civilian Pelicans out of airspace. SMS Shark Squadron liftoff clearance granted. Good hunting, SMS."

"Got it tower, SMS Shark 1 launch." The Pelican in front of us took off with a whoosh, retracted its landing skids and banked around the swarming outpost before heading towards the battle. "SMS Shark 2, launch." We shuddered as the pilot shoved the throttles forwards and eased us into the air. The skids in front of us hissed closed, folding up into the belly of the pelican, where the SPARTANs sat, weapons loaded and ready.

Everything tilted as the pilot tipped us into a left turn to avoid some Falcons coming in. Soon we were at altitude and heading smoothly for the battlefield. The Covenant had forced their way in so far since our departure from the battle zone- they were already breaching the walls and making their way in into the small town. "Coming up on drop point! Buckle up!" called the pilot. I double-checked that my safety belt was on as tight as it could go, then gripped the handles on the treads as hard as I could.

"We're at the drop point! Good hunting!" announced the pilot, then there was a mechanical clunk as the hydraulics securing us to the bottom of the Pelican disengaged, and we were falling. I started to feel giddy as the negative-Gs started to rise. The ground blurred, everything was out of focus except for the Scorpion and the rest of my squad. "Chute opening." said Cutter from inside the tank as he deployed the parachute. A pack on the middle of the tank blew open, trailing into the sky and pulling opening a white chute.

Our fall was arrested roughly 300 metres above ground, and my stomach settled back down. We were coming down relatively quickly in the middle of the town square, which was empty for now. The rest of the Scorpions were at the western edge of town, pinning down Covenant forces that had made their way past the damaged wall. Cutter spooled up the big diesel engine, giving them a rev as we drifted below the first high-rise. "We're coming up on disengagement point now." reported Serena, tapping the side of the tank. "Right. Disengaging parachute now." I braced myself as Cutter cut away the straps and pressed down on the accelerator. We plummeted- right into a ceremonial garden.

Bushes and trees scratched at my gloves and armour as we came down heavily. Cutter had managed to keep his foot down, and we rumbled out of the garden, down the stairs and grinded across the street. Cutter got us there quickly enough to join up with a Scorpion battalion and arrive at the UNSC's next chokepoint.

Six turrets were nestled inside windows- all were manned. I caught a glimpse of a distinctly tank-like shadow behind a shop window, "Get into those garages, double time!" shouted a sergeant at us. We silently complied, reversing into the wide car spaces. Marines slid the covers over us, and then whispered under the door. "As soon as you hear gunfire, wait for the siren and then smash through these doors. They're pretty thin, so they should break easily."

With that, the marine scurried away and we settled down to wait. The engine hummed quietly as we bunkered down to wait. Within minutes, an advance team roughly 500 metres ahead of us radioed to the ambush point. "Recon 1 to Home Plate, we've got seven squads of Elites and Skirmishers moving up the road, followed up by eight Wraiths and two Locusts. ETA to your position about 5 minutes."

"Roger that Recon 1. Pull back to our position via the alleys and get ready. Alright men, when the infantry shows up fire on them with the turret. Let them retreat and when the Wraiths move up front, I want the Scorps and Grizzlies to break cover and engage the armour."

"Locusts?" exclaimed Morales, throwing his helmet on the floor. "We're doomed." The ODST sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Covenant infantry on my scopes!" shouted someone on my radio. "Don't fire! Let them get in range of the turrets!" commanded the sergeant. 'Affirmative! Ranged unit 2 staying on station."

Plasma fire rippled through the air a second later, and the man shouted, "Turrets, open fire!" The six machineguns buzzed to life, and started chewing into the Covenant soldiers. "Covenant infantry retreating! Wraiths and Locusts moving up!" Cutter revved the engine, and we clambered on board. Wraith shots echoed around the buildings. "Turret 1 and 2 are down! Turret 5 is taking heavy plasma fire from Locusts!"

"Tanks roll out!" bellowed the sergeant. Cutter lurched forward, smashing the cannon through the flimsy aluminium door and emerging out into the open. All around us, eight Scorpions and two Grizzly heavy tanks rumbled into firing position, lining up the Covenant armour. "All tanks engage!" Cutter opened fire, targeting the nearest Wraith. The two massive Grizzly assault platforms rumbled forward, lifting their twin cannons up to face the two Locusts. "Grizzly one, fire." The tank rumbled as its twin cannons blasted a gaping hole in the first Locust's leg, sending it recoiling backwards, but it recovered and returned with a vicious salvo of plasma.

I ducked behind the shield as the beam passed over it, then hit the Grizzly head-on. The tank plowed straight forward despite the beam, and again fired two shells from its cannon, this time sending them at the oval-shaped cockpit.

Cutter rejoined the fight, firing an armour-piercing round into the nearest Wraith. More cannon shots boomed out from the tanks, along with a stream of rockets fired out from the windows of buildings by USNC forces. "40% of Covenant armour destroyed! All units press engagement!"

A Scorpion exploded into a bright shower of flames as a Locust focused its beam on it. The other walker continued to methodically destroy the buildings housing the turrets. "Turret 4 is down!"

"Damn it… All units focus fire on the Locusts!" Cutter complied, sending shot after shot into the Locust's armoured flanks. "Critical hit on Locust 1!" shouted a Marine over the radio as four more shots hit the big walker. "Locust 1 down! Fire on Locust 2!" shouted the sergeant as the first Covenant walker crashed to earth, sparking pathetically.

The second Locust staggered as more of our shots blasted into it, then replied defiantly with a long sustained beam, destroying two of the Scorpions. "Continue engagement! Don't let it get away!" The six remaining tanks poured their fire into the walker. The spindly frame buckled under the sheer force of the amount of shells contacting it and gave up after a struggle.

The two driving forces gone, we rushed the Covenant Wraiths and took control easily. The sergeant didn't waste any time, immediately ordering, "Pack up the turrets and move up! Push the Covenant back!" Cutter confirmed and trundled forward, chasing after the retreating Covenant Elites and Brutes. Behind us, the remaining turrets were stowed and lifted onto Warthogs to be carried over to our new location. We slogged our way down the hill, determinedly shoving the Covenant forces back bit by bit.

It was when we were half-way down the hill that the Covenant received reinforcements- in the form of six Vampires. "Shit! Retreat!" commanded Grizzly 1, already starting to move back. It was too late. All of the floating Covenant attack craft opened fire with their heavy Needlers, the giant three-foot pink needles arcing through the air and slashing into the Scorpions. I counted more than twelve needles imbed themselves in our tank- more than enough for a supercombine reaction. "Get out!" I shouted, vaulting out of the read guard and running.

The others followed suit, but Cutter was a second too late. The pink explosions of the crystal needles knocked the man to the ground, unconscious. A red blip appeared on my VISOR, showing Cutters condition. "Morales get out there and bring him back! We'll cover you!" commanded Grafton, pointing to Cutter. Morales nodded and held out three fingers. I disengaged the safety on the rifle and indicated I was ready. Morales counted down, and when he reached zero, the ODST broke cover and dashed out.

Immediately, the Vampires filled the air with their massive needles, tracking them onto the ODST. Harris lifted his ICWS and swatted most of the needles out of the air, draining his entire clip. Morales rolled behind the burnt-out hulk of the Scorpion and waited behind there as the pink crystals crunched into the twisted metal. As soon as he felt the tank shake with the explosions, he pointed at the Vampires and made the reloading action used by the UNSC. _Tell me when they're reloading_. I gave him a thumbs-up and turned to look at the Vampires. They had about seven shots left.

I stuck my head out, then withdrew it quickly as needles hissed through the air, then gave Morales to go signal. The ODST dashed out, ignoring the plasma fire whizzing about his body and reached Grafton. Harris fired over Morales's head and cut down the Skirmishers approaching, then continued to blaze over the Elite's heads as Morales began to drag the leader back.

Harris paused to reload, and Grafton took his turn, hopping out, settling into a crouch and picking off the Elites desperately attempting to relieve Morales of his load. Morales pulled Cutter into the alley and removed his helmet. "Serena, get Cutter back up. The rest of you help me defend this alley." ordered Grafton. We hurried to Grafton, shouldered our weapons, and began picking off the enemies.

I centred an Elite head in my scopes and watched him blow apart in a shower of purple blood. Behind us, Serena pulled out a needle of Anadrin from her waist pouch and rolled up Cutter's sleeve. The Vampires opened fire, and we pressed ourselves against the walls of the alley as buildings around us broke off small chunks and rained them down on us.

"Cutter's back up." announced Serena as he stumbled to his feet. "Sitrep!" he grunted, leaning against the graffiti-riddled concrete wall "Tank's scrapped, six Vampires overhead, and Covenant infantry closing in from all directions." I reported, looking through the scopes of the rifle. "Damn." sighed Cutter, then drew his DMR. "Alright. We're gonna have to fight our way through these hostiles and link back with the Grizzly tank battalion. Follow me out." Instead of coming from the alley, Cutter smashed through a door and herded us inside with the barrel of his rifle.

"Through here should lead us past most of the Covenant." We hurried past empty rooms, round darkened corners, and arrived at another locked door. Dirty grey light filtered in from underneath the frame. Morales kicked it open, then dove for cover as plasma bolts fizzled through the air. Plasma melted into my new helmet, producing a dirty hissing noise. I pulled back behind Harris as he hosed down the Elite firing on us with another full clip of assault rifle fire.

"Go! Get out!" roared Morales as he pushed us forward. I jumped out of the doorway, made contact with the ground on my hands and knees, picked myself up and drew my M6D. The squad scattered, each person moving to a piece of cover. I rolled behind a semi-trailer as the six Vampires that had harassed us before came back. "Oh shit!" yelled Morales as they began hammering his location with their Needlers.

"Hold on, Morales." said Harris calmly. I spun round to see Harris load a rocket into a launcher had had salvaged from the body of a dead SPARTAN and lift it. Morales was huddled in a corner, pink explosions erupting all around him. Harris fired, and the SPNKR missile whooshed out of the tube and crunched into the Vampire, shooting clean out the other side. The damaged aircraft swerved violently sideways and rolled into its wingman, impaling itself on the giant needles protruding out from the back of the plane.

The two Vampires, locked together, screamed over the skyline and crashed somewhere in a low rumble. The other four Vampires started a slow advance towards us. Harris fired his second rocket, hitting one on its right flank. The ship whirred out of the explosion, damaged, but still functioning. It turned towards Harris and began to shred away the concrete covering the ODST. "I'm out of rockets!" yelped Harris as more and more rubble cascaded down from the relentless Needler storm.

"Break cover and come to my position! Five, can you nail the Vampire?"

"Negative! I can't hit it from my position!"

"Damn it… SMS Skull Four to any UNSC forces in our vicinity, can anyone provide support?"

No answer.

"_SMS Skull Four to anyone! Is there anybody available for support?_"

"This is UNSC Skyhawk squadron Kilo Seven, we're just coming on-station. All right, we've got your location locked up. Kilo Seven-One to Kilo Seven, we're going in hot. Tally-ho, chaps." Eight Skyhawk strike fighters screamed in, locking onto the four Vampires with their powerful radars and letting fly with a salvo of AMRAAM-IIs. The missiles hit on all four, shooting one down and causing damage to the other two. "We're out of arrows, going in with guns." The Vampires all turned as one and responded with a flurry of needles. "Incoming Needler fire, all aircraft evade!" Several pink crystals found their way into one fighter and the Skyhawk exploded, trailing flames across the sky before crunching into a building. No parachute.

"Three's down! All aircraft resume attack!" The squadron once again wheeled across the sky and this time opened up with their 50mm cannons, tearing apart the remaining protective armour of the Vampires. "Splash one, two, three, splash four! Four Vampires down!" yelled a pilot. Seven-One simply answered, "Three's gone… Four, you take Three's position. Form up on me. Kilo Seven squadron going off-station."

Harris groggily emerged from the smoking cratered niche he was hiding in and looked wearily up at us. "We've got to get out of here." he declared. Cutter looked at us, looked at our surroundings. We were standing in the middle of a destroyed traffic junction. Small fires and craters marked the area where Covenant and UNSC fire had hit. Two of the signposts had collapsed, burying a bunch of small civilian cars underneath the rubble. The small shops surrounding the square-shaped asphalt were riddled with bullet-holes and plasma burns. Everything was a shade of grey, expect for the brightly coloured Grunt blood on the walls and ground.

"I'll call up Grizzly tank battalion." he said, pressing his headset. "SMS Skull Four to Grizzly- can you hear me?" Static. "SMS Skull Four to SMS Command, request a sitrep on Grizzly."

"Hold on SMS Skull…. Grizzly is offline, casualties are at 100 percent."

"Damn it… What are my orders, Command?"

"Civilian population is now at 98 percent extraction. Move back up to the shipyards at Aszod."

"Affirmative. SMS Skull Four, moving off." Cutter cut the connection and turned towards the mountains. "Let's go."


	14. Disclaimer

Once again, for all who are reading this fanfic, I'm not continuing on with it. Now that the game has come out, it gets pretty hard to remain canonically correct. Therefore, check out my other fic, which provides me with much more freedom to expand with, and as such, more action and crap like that.


	15. Reclaimer?

Okay guys, after several days of indecision, I've (finally) made the choice to revive the story. What used to be a story on Reach would be the documentation of SMS Skull Zero-Five's experience throughout the Halo series. =) It's good to be back.


	16. Remember Reach

I looked at our ride out of this hellhole. An aging Halcyon-Class cruiser, the _Pillar of Autumn _sat grandly at the top of the dirty, abandoned scrapyard. Ironic, I thought, that they were launching it from a place where ships came to be destroyed. As we left the smoking, burning extraction point for the citizens behind us and made for the parched canyons ahead, a badly damaged Pelican thundered overhead from generally the ONI Sword Base, trailed by a few Banshees.

"Do you think they'll make it?" asked Grafton.

Two SPARTANs jumped out of the Pelican as it passed over the canyon, and disappeared under the steep orange sandstone walls. The Pelican wobbled as the two Banshees swung into a firing position and opened fire. "Come on, we've got to get all of us into this Warthog." grunted Cutter, clambering into the driver's seat of the troop transport. "Harris, get in shotgun. The rest of you go back." We boarded the Warthog, wedging our weapons into the places provided, and Cutter roared off down the deserted road.

"Checkpoint up ahead, looks like it's occupied by Covenant." reported Serena from where she sat, looking through her scope. "Wraith too." she added as the purple armoured tank hovered out from behind cover and began its bombardment. "Copy, Serena, get back in your seat." said Cutter, keeping his foot to the pedal. I pulled my M6C out of its holster and pulled the safety off, preparing for close range combat.

The troop carrier Warthog crashed through the flimsy wooden gate of the checkpoint and made off down the dirt road, pursued by the Covenant, who had got on Ghosts hidden in the checkpoint and behind bushes. "Three, four, five Ghosts inbound!" Harris counted as the Wraith continued its bombardment. Cutter swerved dangerously left and right, dodging the deadly plasma bombs as they arced over our heads and around us. "Ghosts are coming this way!" reported Harris, firing his ICWS uselessly at the floating attack vehicles.

I took my eyes off the enemy and looked ahead. In front of us was a 2 kilometre stretch of precariously dangerous, mountain-hugging roads filled with the wreckage of destroyed UNSC and civilian vehicles. The Ghosts opened fire, and Cutter turned hard right, nearly tipping Morales over. "Five, take my DMR, engage the Ghosts!" he commanded. "Right!" I answered, reaching out and taking the black rifle from Cutter's station. Pressing my ODST VISOR to the scope, I cracked shots at the Ghosts, wincing as most of them spanged away on their thin armour or hit the road in puffs of sand.

The Elites driving simply ducked their heads as Harris emptied another clip into their vehicles. Plasma melted around us, making burn marks on our armour and the Warthogs. A line of Spirits passing by opened up with heavy plasma cannons, tearing chunks of rocks out of the cliff and raining them down on us. Cutter zigzagged up the slope around the cars and wrecked tanks, throwing off the Ghost's aim.

"Second checkpoint coming up! Wraiths! Look out!" yelled Grafton. A single round from the first Wraith fell a few metres from our position, a simple ranging shot, and the rest of the three tanks opened up, surrounding us in a storm of blue energy eruptions. The Warthog flipped end over end, eventually landing on its side and throwing me, Serena and Harris out before plowing into a chain-link fence. I got to my feet, hacking and coughing to clear the dust from my throat. Elites closed in from all around us.

The rest of the squad emerged groggily from the ruins, and at the same time Serena and Harris sat up. "Get inside! Hurry!" I commanded, pushing the two ODSTs into the hole the Warthog created and herding the rest of the dazed squad inside. We tumbled through the door and into a dark room, dimly lit by a dismal single flickering yellow light bulb. Sickly brown and green stains lined the wall. But what was most important were the bodies of six Marines slumped in the corner. Each had several grenades. Their weapons lay scattered on the floor and their ammunition was sitting nonchalantly on a desk.

We quickly stripped them of their DMRs and MA37s and collected their grenades and ammunition. I could hear the voices of the Elite officers as they commanded their charges in a rush forward to get at out location. A rock smashed through the small window, letting in smoky daylight-and a plasma grenade. We clamped our bodies onto the walls as the grenade exploded. Seconds later, a Spec-Ops Grunt leapt in through the window, needler up and ready to fire.

He saw Serena first and opened fire. Harris dived in front of the girl holding a thick wooden chair. The needler rounds imbedded themselves in the chair and Harris threw it at the small alien. The Grunt yelped and tried to leap away on its short stocky legs but the chair smashed into his face and exploded, showering the room with blue blood. A plasma bomb dropped on the roof of the concrete structure, shaking it to its foundations and causing a small storm of dust and spider webs to dislodge themselves from the ceiling.

"We should get out of here. Any transport options?" asked Cutter, ducking down as plasma round buzzed overhead. I stuck my head out over the rim of the shattered window, then withdrew it quickly as Covenant fire rushed through. "Will a semi-trailer do?" I asked. I could see Cutter grinning behind his faceless VISOR. "Will it ever."

We emerged from the left side of the door, guns blazing at the Covenant. The truck was parked on the far side of the road, behind the six squads of Covenant that separated us from the vehicle. "Get to the truck! Move it!" barked Cutter, firing down his sights at an Elite attempting to find cover as its shield overloaded. We ran across the road, plasma bombs raining all around us, firing our guns from hip-level as we advanced. Plasma melted into my shoulder plates, creating an angry burning sensation.

Harris was first at the semi-trailer, waving at us to get in while firing over our heads at the Covenant giving chase. "Harris! Get in! Drive!" ordered Cutter, jumping into the passenger seat. "The rest of you, get in the cabin!" We piled up inside the big driver's cabin as Harris took the wheel. "Morales! Where's Morales?" Serena asked.

"Shit. Morales, you there?" broadcasted Cutter. "Don't leave without me, guys!" shouted the big ODST. He was lugging something in his arms, with thick climbing cables flapping about his shoulders. "What are you doing?" yelled Cutter.

"Thought we'd need some firepower!" replied Morales sheepishly, running past the cabin and climbing onto the back of the truck. "What have you got?"

".50 Cal!" called the ODST. There was a series of mechanical thumps, then a grinding noise, and Morales barked, "Okay! I've tied myself to the semi-trailer and the turret's up!" Meanwhile, Harris had been hot-wiring the truck. "We're ready to go!" he yelled. "Step on it!" commanded Cutter.

Harris stomped on the accelerator, and the semi-trailer leapt forward, thick engine roaring. Morales opened up on the approaching infantry with a steady rattle and soon we were driving down the hill towards the Wraiths. Plasma explosions boomed on the flat-bed, causing Morales to grunt, "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea!"

"Hold on buddy, I'll take care of those Wraiths first and I'll detach it!" Harris suddenly turned the wheel all the way to the right, and threw the semitrailer into a skid. The giant vehicle smashed into the three Wraiths, flipping them end over end and accidentally jamming us into the two sandstone walls. Harris quickly detached the main engine block from the trailer, and we were on our way, the giant flat-bed serving as a makeshift roadblock for the Covenant trying to pursue.

Harris gunned the engine, pushing the road tractor to its peak. We rumbled down the road, kicking up a very noticeable dust cloud. A Covenant starship probably used us for an aiming point, because suddenly a massive Scarab dropped out of the sky and smashed into the canyon just to the right of us and began to stomp away.

"Thank God it's ignoring us." remarked Cutter, leaning out the window to take a look.

"Look, two o'clock low! It's that Pelican!" I followed Serena's hand to see the same dropship from before, only now streaming flames from the bottom two engines streak across the sky and open fire with its chaingun. It only had a few seconds of fire before it turned tail and again disappeared behind some cover as the Scarab followed it like a cat playing with a toy.

Harris maintained a steady path down the dusty road. We passed a third checkpoint, free of any Covenant and dismounted. "Any other vehicles we can use?" asked Cutter as he opened the door and let us out. We found a functional troop carrier Warthog and boarded it, this time I took the driver's position. We roared of down the empty roads back into the canyons. "The Aszod Shipyards are just up ahead." reported Serena.

"Roger. We crossed a bridge and entered a tunnel. A squad of Elites, Brutes and Skirmishers were foraging for something inside the gloomy blue-green shadows of the tunnels. I gunned the engine, savouring the way they stood dejectedly watching us speed past. We burst out of the dark tunnel emerged under the Scarab. "Holy shit!" I yelped, immediately pulling the handbrake and screeching to a halt. "What the hell?" shouted Cutter as the cameras mounted on the Scarab's head tilted down to look at us.

"We are screwed." I predicted as the Scarab's main gun began to charge. There was the sound of engines above the high-pitched scream of the cannon collecting energy, and that same Pelican again came out of nowhere, opening fire with the cannon. The Scarab again diverted its attention to it, but the green dropship continued its attack, ignoring the plasma bolts that splashed against its armour.

"Is the pilot gonna-" asked Serena. The Pelican tipped downwards and crunched into the charging cannon, fully imbedding itself into the gun. The pilot evidently didn't survive. The head of the giant walker exploded in blue and green plasma and explosions ripped up and down its spine. The Lekgolo worms inside decided wisely to bug out and retreated to make repairs. To our far left, two SPARTAN-IIIs made a descent down the slopes of the sandstone canyons and disappeared into another section. "Should we call them?" asked Harris.

"We've got our own things to do." responded Cutter, motioning for me to go forward. We bounced over the dusty road and emerged in the middle of a massive battle taking place between the UNSC and Covenant. "Let's go." commanded Cutter, then radio messaged the UNSC forces. "SMS Skull Four here, we've just arrived on the battlefield. Do you need support?"

"Finally! An SMS force! We're down to our last forces, and two SPARTANs are inbound with a package of level zero priority! Captain needs to lift off in six and he can't take off without it!"

"Roger. SMS Skull Four dismount and engage!" I snatched the empty DMR next to me and used it to wedge down the accelerator, then yelled, "We're all set! Dismount!" The others bailed out of the car, leaving only me. I fished out a grenade from my belt, pulled the pin and rolled it under my feet, then set the Warthog on a collision course towards two Hunters firing on a squad of Marines.

I leapt out of the seat, hurling myself roughly onto the ground with a loud grunt, clutching my DMR and ICWS. I had never been a close range shooting man, preferring to use my knife and feet, but hopefully I could engage from a distance using the DMR and only use the MA37 in emergencies after the SRS99 got pulverised by the Warthog crash.

I turned and watched as the kamikaze Warthog smashed into the two unsuspecting Hunters and blew up, scattering worms everywhere. I drew the DMR and regrouped with the rest of the squad. Putting my VISOR to the scope I began to fire. It didn't do as much damage as I had hoped, but with quick shots of three, I could deplete an Elite's shields and ruin a Brute's day. I shouldered the weapon and began firing. "Look! Noble team's here!" The two SPARTANs from before, one clad in black, the other white jumped down from a ridge and began to eat away at the Covenant position.

"Now's our chance! Forward!" roared Cutter, leading out squad in an all-out assault on the Covenant as they turned to attack the two newcomers. We charged into the Covenant positions, guns blazing, and some of the UNSC marines rallied as well, beginning separate advances into the Covenant. "The two SPARTANs are of utmost importance for mission success SMS Skull Four, do not let them die!" ordered the SMS Command radio operator. "Protect them until more SMS Skull forces arrive!"

"That's a roger, command. Alright, Skull Four, you heard the lady, protect those men with your lives!" ordered Cutter. An Elite Officer lunged at me. I ducked below his swipe, got him with a quick kick to the legs, and as he fell, fired a round through his head with the DMR. A Grunt attempted to run past me. I grabbed it by the tip of the methane tank and hurled it at an Elite Zealot trying to rally his troops. Right when the Grunt hit his commanding officer, I raised my scopes and blasted the tank to bits, making a small explosion that nonetheless engulfed the Elite commander.

I hear the swish of a plasma grenade being thrown, ducked and turned to face the Brute who had thrown it. The ape rushed me, snarling ferociously. I kicked it once in the chest, sending it backwards into the black-armoured SPARTAN's sights. A single shot rang out and a DMR round imbedded the alien's face, flipping it head over heels.

Ghosts rushed into battle, plasma cannons firing. One made right for me, buzzing ominously. I dropped to the ground as the Ghosts floated above me, the Brute driver emitting a startled snort of surprise. As the Ghost's read end approached, with its dangerous anti-gravity emitter, I swung my legs up into the underside of the purple vehicle, flipping it over. Without standing up, I rolled over and sat up, firing a single shot from the rifle between the twin gravity streams at the front, where the core of the Ghost was placed.

As the Brute rolled out of his vehicle, it exploded, sending him flying 50 metres where he lay unconscious. "Move it! Get to those SPARTANs!" roared Cutter as the white one loaded his final brace of shells into his shotgun. We pushed forward, sending magazine after magazine's worth of ammunition into the enemy. My DMR clicked dry as I expended the last four rounds to bring down an Ultra, and I threw it at a Brute, who dodged the gun and threw a Spike grenade.

I caught the long stick-like bomb by the handle, and returned it to the Brute with my left hand, drawing the MA37 with my other. Six Grunts tottered out of cover, opening fire with their plasma pistols spitting out green bolts of hot energy. I pressed my finger to the trigger and aimed the gun like a hose, like I saw Harris and Cutter did. The bullets ate into the Grunts, killing them off seconds before the rifle dry-clicked.

I dropped the empty mag with a touch of a button and rammed a new one home, then assessed the situation. It wasn't going too well. More than eight Elites, ranking from Majors to Ultras surrounded the two SPARTANs, keeping them under a deluge of plasma. I wasted no time in fighting my way up towards the SPARTANs. When I got there, I drew my last two magazines of MA37 ammunition and threw them to the black-armoured SPARTAN. He nodded his thanks, picked up his rifle, tossed me his M6D sidearm, and stood up.

"Anything for me?" asked the white armoured one. He had a skull painted spookily on his helmet. "Nope. Sorry." I said.

"Meh." He turned his back to me and scavenged around for something to use. I took cover behind the crumbling rock as an Elite officer toting a concussion rifle fired it with a thump over our heads. "Hold on Five, we're all alive down here and flanking the Elites!" said Cutter triumphantly. Automatic fire crackled, and I stood up, holding the magnum and popping off six rounds into an Elite Major's chest, then finishing it off with a blast to the head.

The white SPARTAN stood up beside me, holding a scavenged plasma repeater. "Ultra. I'll take down his shields, you finish him off." he told me. I nodded. He fired the weapon, and I watched the shots splash into the shields, and as soon as it flickered and died, I squeezed off the last round of the only magazine. The Ultra fell, and I threw the pistol hard at a Minor that had just lost its shields. The tip of the grip connected with the middle of the Elite's forehead, knocking him out.

"Nice." remarked White SPARTAN. I nodded in thanks, dodging an overcharge blast of green plasma sizzled over the rock, blasting a sizable hole in the ground. Cutter and the others had made quick work of the remaining Elites, and when they fell, the SPARTANs immediately began to run towards the wrecked hull of the UNSC _Commonwealth_. I picked up a half-depleted plasma repeater and sprinted after the two SPARTANs, as three Pelicans carrying the SMS Skull teams screamed overhead and dropped their cargo.

SMS Skull One-One hit the ground with a thud, looked Cutter in the eye and shook his hand. "Four-One. Good to see you. It seems like you've accomplished more than all of our Skull teams combined."

"Thank you, sir. But with all due respect, we've still got a Priority Zero task to apprehend." responded Cutter. One-One laughed and gestured behind him. The Pelican dropped six racks of weapons and ammunition. "You're right. That's why I brought these." Dodging plasma fire from Covenant Banshees and Ghosts, we ran to the racks, snatching weapons off their metal holsters and loading ammunition magazines into their slots.

"Move it!" barked One-One to his squad, "This area's still hot! All SMS Skull Forces assist the Noble Team in bringing the Package to the _Pillar of Autumn_! Once the package is delivered, we're getting the hell out of this planet on the absolute last six Pelicans out!" The sky flickered as another Covenant warship began its glassing routine. I released the safety on the DMR and followed Cutter as he waved us onward.

The SPARTANs were pressed against the outer hull of the scrapped UNSC starship as plasma and needles whipped out of the doorway. "Go! SMS Skull Two! Secure the doorway!" bellowed Two-One. The elite squad fanned out, opening fire with their SPNKR launchers and MA37s. "Doorway secured! Noble Team, move through!" The SPARTANs rushed inside, empting their clips at the four Elite Zealot guarding the way to the next chamber.

Skull Three flanked them from the side, shredding their shields with the standard issue MA37s. We kept moving, ignoring the growing plasma burns on our armour as more enemies hit home. "Skirmishers, three o'clock!" A glowing ball of plasma energy slammed home- the black armoured SPARTAN. "Six! Damn it, cover him!" commanded White SPARTAN, dragging the injured soldier behind a crate. We filled the air with fire, taking out the horde of Jackals and Skirmishers that had snuck up on us.

"Shields back up." grunted Noble Six. "Thanks, Emile." Emile shrugged.

"Hunters!" roared a SMS Skull operative.

"This day just gets better and better…" muttered Emile, priming a grenade ready to throw. Green flashed of plasma blasted into the air above us. "What are they doing?" wondered Serena. I looked up. "Oh shit! Move!" I hurled myself into Noble Six, ignoring the sharp shocks of electricity the shields gave me as a weakened, warped girder toppled over, smashing into the floor with a dull thud, crushing two members of SMS Skull Three.

"Davenport! Allis! Damnit, they're gone! Three, kill those damn aliens!" roared Three-One. Emile lobbed the grenade, bouncing it off the walls and into the first Hunter. The giant alien staggered backwards as the explosive went off in its face, and Grafton charged it, unsheathing his shotgun. "Grafton! Damn it, there he goes again." sighed Cutter.

The ODST ducked behind a shipping container as the second Hunter fired its assault cannon, covering its teammate while it regained its senses. Grafton fired his shotgun into the stumbling Blue-armoured beast as it shook itself awake, then jumped over a low swipe, landing on the upturned shield mounted on the animal and pumping his shotgun. The Hunter shook him off, but the ODST managed to prime a grenade as he fell, and reached out and stuck his hand into the Hunter's body. He engaged the second Hunter, sliding under it as the first monster exploded. Its friend howled and stomped on the ground angrily. Grafton skidded to a halt, rolled behind some cover as the Hunter aggressively fired its cannon.

The ODST broke cover as the cannon overheated sprinting towards the Hunter as it raised its face for a slam. Grafton bent down low to scoop something up, and revealed it to be an energy sword as the blade activated, springing to life as the ODST approached. Grafton leaped over the massive hand of the Hunter as it brought it down, shaking the floor with the power of its attack. That however didn't stop Grafton from plunging the energy sword into its vital regions, where the small cluster of Lekgolo worms maintained bodily stability and motion.

The Hunter just slumped weakly to the floor, and Grafton disentangled himself from under the massive arm. The two SPARTANs wasted no time in sprinting out the other side, into the landing zone. It was crawling with Covenant. "Are we supposed to sweep that?" asked Morales incredibly. "Nope, Sword team is." Drop pods cascaded into the Covenant positions, disgorging SMS Sword SPARTANs by the dozen. "Skull Two, Three and Five give us some covering fire. Four and One, we're going in." directed One-One.

We dropped to the dirt, approaching from the other side of the Covenant. "Move it! Kill as many as you can before the rest notice us!" I emptied my DMR into three Elites, felling them from where they manned turrets firing down on the SPARTANs below. "This is Captain Keyes to Noble Team, have you got the Package?"

"Affirmative, captain, what are your orders?"

'Get in the facilities' Mass Driver Cannon, defend against those inbound Phantoms!"

"Roger sir, Noble Six, you get the Package to him. I'll man the turret."

The white armoured SPARTAN, Emile, disappeared into one of the buildings, and soon a massive device mounted on top of the building hummed to life, blasting purple-white rounds that lanced into incoming dots in the red skies. Noble Six led us in an all-out assault on the Covenant, wading through their ranks and dealing death-blows left and right. A Brute Chieftain swung at me with the blade on the edge of his Gravity Hammer.

I swore and unsheathed my combat knife, parrying the sharp edge of the hammer. Nevertheless, the Brute's sheer strength knocked me off my feet and onto the ground. I looked up as the ape, snarling viciously, raised its weapon overhead for a kill. I flicked the knife into the gravity hammer's head. The Chieftain paused uncertainly as energy exploded out from multiple vents on the hammer, and I used the opportunity to kick him hard in the stomach, away from me so when the hammer exploded a few seconds after, I wasn't hurt.

"Shit! Four SPARTANs are down? That can't be!" yelled a Marine somewhere. "Four SPARTANs are dead…" I echoed, putting a round from my M6D into a Grunt's face. They weren't really as invincible as I had hoped. The battle didn't go well; our cost of eliminating the entire Covenant was the entire squad of SMS Sword SPARTANs. Their twelve bodies lay sprawled on the ground, lights flickering.

"This is Keyes, on hot approach to Platform Delta." radioed the captain. His Pelican touched down and Noble Six gave Keyes a glowing blue core. "Keyes to Bridge, I have the Package, returning to home plate, over."

"Roger that captain, we'll be expecting you." responded the bridge of the starship. A violent shaking started, accompanied by the appearance of a massive CSS-Class battlecruiser. "Oh shit…" deadpanned Morales.

"Look! Phantom, down low! Destroy it!" It was too late the Covenant dropship reached the mass driver and dropped two Zealots. We could only watch as Emile struggled with them, killing one with his shotgun, then getting stabbed through the back by the other one. The dying SPARTAN lunged around and slashed his kukri across the Elite's throat.

"Shit man. That makes one SPARTAN." deduced Harris. A sudden silence descended over us, overpowering even the terrifying sight of the Covenant starship hovering overhead. I looked over. The SPARTAN had just _refused _his offer of departure, turning away from the outstretched hand offer to him, and was running across to his dead comrade, firing up at the Covenant. He eliminated all of them with ease and instead of going to his friend, he clambered into the Onager and began to fire defiantly past the Pelican as it began to take off.

As the Pelican lifted off, we slowly made out way down to our own rides to the ship- four Falcons. As we descended the slope, three Wraiths retreated. They had destroyed all but one of the aircraft, having turned back when they spied us coming down the hill. A Falcon was capable of carrying an absolute maximum weight of six people- enough for one squad. One-One sighed, then pointed at the Falcon and said SMS Skull Four, mount up."

"What?" shouted Cutter incredulously. "You're the commander, you're gonna have to ride on that! Screw us, we're not important enough!"

"Think about it, Cutter." replied the Skull leader calmly. "Your squad alone has accomplished more than any of our others could ever hope to achieve. The war isn't over yet, and if we have to win this war, we're gonna need the best men we can get." The other men were nodding slowly. "We're not going." declared Morales.

"I thought as much." answered One-One, then I felt a sharp pain at the base of my skull. My vision blacked out. When I came to, I was bound and strapped into the Falcon. The battlecruiser lay in ruins on the burning ground in front of the Aszod docks. The rest of my squad was next to me, helmet removed, all bound and gagged. A SMS Skull One man was injecting Anadrin into Harris, next to me. "Wait! What are you doing?" I asked. The man turned around. He was One-One. "I've rigged an auto-pilot device to the controls. They should get you to the starship just before it lefts off." The man undid my ropes and everybody else's, keeping them firmly locked in place by the straps. He stepped off the helicopter as Cutter awoke. The captain immediately thrashed about in his straps, then settled down and looked at One-One.

"Four-One, it has been a honour." the man said, smiling honestly. Cutter hesitated, then sighed and saluted. "As for me too." He snapped his right arm to his head in an awkward attempted salute. One-One returned the gesture, as did the rest of the SMS forces behind him. They held the salute for a full thirty seconds as the Falcon lifted off, then I saw them break parade and start setting up a hasty defence.

**I apologise for the quality of this chapter, it seemed rather scrappy to me- probably because I was usually half-awake when I worked on it and that it was cobbled together from spare time from study, tennis, and school. Sorry. Anyway, this marks the end of Reach for our squad, and here begins the outrageously ridiculous disappearance of Brutes** **and the very convenient location of Halo.**


	17. HALP PLEASE

Hello people. I'm suffering writer's block and need a bit of help writing my next chapter. I would prefer it to have something to do with the Pillar of Autumn's escape from Reach with some tense bridge moments, but anything should do. Post you're ideas in the reviews bit right over there.


	18. The Pillar of Autumn

"All personnel to general quarters. All personnel report for duty at your battlestations!" commanded Keyes over the intercom. Everybody on the UNSC _Pillar of Autumn_ stopped gazing wistfully out the windows at the dying Reach and scurried to their individual combat stations. Pilots reported for duty at the two large hangars from the prow and stern of the ship, all bridge technicians and officers appeared at the bridge, and mechanics and their commanding officers all fell in at the engine rooms. We Marines and SMS forces simply were left to man the point-defence 20mm cannons.

"The Covenant Navy has formed a defensive ring around Reach, capable of deploying ships to any position so that they can engage our forces at any degree of escape! Currently deploying to our position are two Covenant destroyers, with a single CSS-Class cruiser on stand-by. Engines, prepare for evasive action, slave to Navigation! Weapons, prepare for combat at all ranges! We're gonna break through!"

"Navigation, roger, receiving slave from Engines, ready to go."

"Weapons here, we're charging the MAC now. Archer pods powering up, last crew members reporting to their stations now."

I looked at my battlestation. It was a narrow cylindrical chamber, a single chair on it, along with a joystick like an aircraft's. I stepped in, slid into the chair and strapped myself in. "Weapons Section C-5, report in!" barked somebody on the small radio on the side of the chair. A flashing red button marked 'Ready' was stamped onto the arm-rest. I jabbed down on it and it turned green. A few seconds later, and a computerised voice droned, "Prepare for combat."

"Man, this is just like a video game!" chuckled Morales over the private radio frequency in my helmet. "Stow it, Morales. You don't get any extra lives here." growled Grafton. The floor around me clicked and whirred as a left mechanism beneath my feet hummed into life, propelling my almost frighteningly fast up into the outer hull of the ship, which slid away a second before impact and closed an airtight and sealed dome around me. A curved rectangular chassis extended over my head, locking into place when it extended all the way into the semi-sphere of my micro-atmosphere, bringing a plastic HUD in front of my eyes, which hummed to life. Next up was the 30mm defensive turret, which folded up on both sides and clicked into place.

The HUD updated, showing ammunition, armour integrity and contacts within firing range. "Alright, guys enjoy your shooting gallery." said the man on the radio somewhat dismissively. "First enemy wave of sixty Seraphs, coming port side, bearing zero-four-five, angels four, coming in loaded." reported the bridge. "Engage with Archer missiles! Get them out of the space before they launch and torpedoes!" commanded Keyes. My gun turret was on the port flank of the starship, so I couldn't see the spectacular sight of the missiles separating from their sabots and rushing towards the Seraphs coming up at us from the starboard side.

A few seconds later, the ship's onboard AI, the 'package' Noble Team had delivered, Cortana, reported, "Fifty percent of contacts off-radar. Archer pods reload and fire. Guns, prepare to engage-torpedoes! Plasma torpedos inbound! Guns, switch to EMP dispersal shells, firing pattern Alpha One!" The_ Pillar of Autumn's_ hull shuddered as the whole right side opened up in flames, the 30mm gun turrets spitting out several thousand EMP field dispersal units in a protective shield around the cruiser.

"Half of torpedoes destroyed. Ten remaining. All guns go into rapid fire close-range mode. Do not let a single shot hit the _Autumn._" commanded Keyes. The steady boom quickly morphed into a continuous, annoying drone. "Two torpedoes still intact! All hands brace for impact!" roared Keyes.

I clutched the arm-rests of my seat as the _Halcyon_-class cruiser shook violently. A red siren began wailing. The lights flickered on and off. "Damage report!" roared the captain. "Engine-room hit! Thrust down by 30 percent! All turrets in section H-89 are neutralised! Hull breach in chambers B-76, B-77 and B-78, atmosphere venting!"

"Seal off chambers, adjust positions of turrets in section I-01 andG-100 and start immediate repairs on the engines! I want the slip-space drive up and ready to go in twenty, the main engine back to 100 percent capacity in four!" directed Keyes.

"Next wave of attackers inbound, bearing two-seven-zero, angels four again. Appears to be a squadron of Seraphs again, exact numbers unknown. Engage with Archer missiles and launch Longswords." updated Cortana.

"Hangar bay 1, reporting VF-67 squadron ready for launch!"

"Hangar bay 2, reporting VF-68 squadron ready for launch!"

"Excellent. Get all personnel out of the hangar, seal airlocks and open hangar doors. Wait for my signal to launch."

"Roger. We're exiting the hangar now."

I sat up straighter in my chair. This time the attackers were coming our way. Red blinking squares appeared on my HUD as I swivelled the turret, giving updated information on their location and general heading.

The Archer missiles streamed out once again, lancing out across the void to meet their targets in a collection of orange and white circles. "Seven contacts remaining, looks like they're just loaded with fuel rods, take 'em out, guns." The roughly oval shapes of the purple-rimmed white starfighters shimmered into view, approaching the extreme outer edge of my guns. "Combat, HE shells long-range scatter burst." I directed.

Without answering, the small 'dumb' AI loaded 500 rounds of the selected shells into the gun, then informed me with a beep. The Covenant fighters had now passed within range, and I opened fire, feeling the satisfying thump as each shell was launched in a bright burst of steam. Every turret on the port of the _Autumn_ pointed their guns at seven Seraphs and fired in a continuous broadside, all using the prescribed long range scatter shells.

There was a time-lapse of about thirty seconds while the rounds reach their preprogramed separation points, and then the dull dark blue of space lit up with oily puffs and yellow streaks as the shells separated and detonated, completely obliterating the contacts from my scopes.

"All Seraphs down! That's an entire destroyer's compliment!" congratulated Cortana, then switched back to her usual laid-back report. "Destroyers moving in to engage. All guns switch to HE armour piercing round! Reduce timing for MAC preparation to two!" I cycled through my options, selected the shells, then swivelled my turret up- and stopped in shock. Overhead, a sleek dark purple shape sliced smoothly through space, pinkish-blue plasma fire streaming out of needle-like guns on its underside. The _Halcyon_-class cruiser shuddered as its armour blacked from the plasma fire, then returned fire with an all-out broadside, completely enveloping the starship in oily puffs of dying fire and black smoke.

The destroyer just sailed on through, not even firing at us anymore, then something near its back dropped out and spiralled towards us. "I'm detecting some kind of large vehicle descending toward us, larger than anything space-faring in our logs… Crap! Scarab! It's a Scarab!"

"Scarabs? Scarabs don't travel through-" I stopped short as the metallic behemoth crashed down on the prow of the_ Autumn_, driving the nose down several degrees and sending the cruiser in a barely controlled dive. "Helm, bring the nose up! Get us wings-level and run a damage report!" roared Keyes.

"Helm answering wings-level, damage report indicates all sections above A-4 are punctured, casualties high, sealing off chambers now, Scarab is moving on the hull and is predicted to attempt to disable our engines."

"Damn… Concentrate all fire on that monster! Take it down!"

"Sir, our mounted guns and Archer missile pods do not have the attack capability to destroy let alone puncture the Scarab's modified armour."

"_Can anyone do anything?_"

I winced. The Scarab had punch through three layers of six metre-thick titanium-A on its arrival, and was now stomping its way towards the engine block, a two or three minute hike. "This is SMS Skull Four-One. I've got an idea." I blinked.

"What idea?" asked Morales.

"What is it, son?"

"I need all the floors above the ODST drop-bay 2 to be cleared of all personnel and sealed. I'm gonna need the special SPARTAN SOEIV pods on the portable racks." directed Cutter.

"Done. What else do you need?"

"M90s, MA6Bs, MA37s, any close range weapons you can find. I also need the AI to make a duplicate of itself."

"Okay. Cortana, you heard the man. Everybody else, evacuate sections Y1 through 20. I need the SPARTAN SOEIVs up and running, with the specified weaponry ready."

"SMS Skull Four-One, fall in!" commanded Cutter. I deactivated the ready button, waited impatiently for the lift to take me into the deck. "What's the plan?" asked Grafton as he rejoined the others.

"Just follow me to the ODST SOEIV bays." growled Cutter, donning his VISR and trotting briskly down the backbone of the ship. After thirty seconds of frantic sprinting to the pounding of the Scarab's legs, we charged through the open doors of the drop-pod bays. Lines and lines of SOEIVs lined the red-lit chamber, and Cutter led us directly to the ones he wanted, the gull-grey SPARTAN SOEIVs. They were specially fitted for the super-soldiers, extremely well armoured, fired almost three times as fast as the normal ODST ones, and carried titanium-A tungsten-B mixtures on the armoured cone of impact.

To the side of each, were M90 shotguns, MA5Bs, their older but more powerful cousins, the MA37s, and M7S submachine guns and a collection of ZPGI grenades and fragmentation grenades. We stocked up, each carrying a MA60 or M37, and a M90A shotgun, plus two grenades. Jamming his weapons in the SOEIV, Cutter immediately ran to the controls, _and flipped our rack upside down._ "What the…" puzzled Harris.

"Get in." directed Cutter, carefully manoeuvring himself into the upside down pod.

"Oh god, you have got to be kidding... Keyes is gonna kill us." I announced, putting palm to forehead as the realisation of what he was about to do sank in.

"Shut up and go. It's the only way we can get in. Seal your helmets and prepare for liftoff."

With large amounts of reluctance, we eventually managed to get our weapons- and our bodies into the pods. Cortana's twin logged in to Cutter's helmet in a secure data file, and Cutter used his leader pod's command features to close our pod doors. "Skull Four, what are you doing in- Son, you are mad."

"Say what you want sir." replied Cutter smoothly, then hit the ignition.

Six full-powered rockets in the top- now bottom of my pod fired, flinging me forwards at almost 600 kilometres an hour. I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes as I hit the roof with a shattering crack and burned my way through, opening up a giant hole, then smashed into the next roof, and the next. The whole trip took just over ten seconds. In that time, we had punched through one hundred and twenty metres of the strongest titanium man had ever made. Next up was the Scarab.

The guards inside must have been surprised when five human SOEIVs suddenly punched out through the bottom of the walker and imbedded themselves in the thick second floor of the thing, then spat out five severely disoriented humans. Of course by then half of them had already been sucked out from the vacuum created by our entry. The rest were too busy clutching at anything they could get at to avoid being thrown out into space.

I snatched at the end of my SOEIV as an Elite sailed past, flailing frantically, before it too was eaten up by the cold hungry void. Fortunately, a pile of jammed weapons in the holes allowed Morales to methodically neutralise each vacuum by sealing them with generous amounts of duct tape, which immediately bent outwards in the strength of the sucking power.

"Alright. How do we stop this thing?" asked Serena, dropping off her handhold and onto the ground. "I'm gonna upload Cortana's twin into the main computer, see if she can hack the Scarab's command features, return it to crew control." Cutter removed the small data chip from his elbow sleeve, then placed it on the glowing screens of the main computers, untouched because of the automatic control from the Lekgolo worms in the core.

The screens fizzled and flashed red as Cortana's twin immediately hacked into the Scarab's relatively simple computer system, taking control from the aliens in the core. "Cortana, give me translations." demanded Cutter as Covenant script began to appear as the AI hacked into more and more files. With a flash, the duplicate AI quickly ran the script through her processors and beamed the function back in English.

"Uhh… Let's see now… Serena, get over here!"

"What?" the girl asked, still fully armoured in her ODST outfit. Cutter jabbed a finger obnoxiously at the computers and said simply, "Figure out how it works. Get it back on the destroyer. Blow the thing up."

"Destroyer or Scarab?"

"Destroyer, preferably."

"Alright then. Just let me figure this thing out." Serena hunched over the controls for a few minutes, then declared, "This looks like a normal Scarab, except with four big thrusters attached to the legs for directional flight during space. It might be a new experiment by the Covenant in ship-to-ship warfare. A single Scarab might tear a frigate to shreds in a few minutes."

"The important thing is, can you get it back to the destroyer and do as much damage as possible?"

"I should be able to bypass the shields since we're in a Covenant craft, and from there there's no stopping this thing. It should be able to withstand their point defence turrets for about twenty minutes, from memory."

"Get us there."

"Okay, but we're gonna need a bit of a run-up to gain some speed."

"Four-One to Keyes, I'm gonna have to borrow your hull."

"Damn it, soldier, you smash through the whole of Y deck and now you want to run on my ship?"

"I'll pay for the paintwork."

Cutter nodded at Serena, who pushed the virtual throttles on the walker forward, and spun the giant machine around. A camera mounted on the nose showed live video feed onto the main monitor, and I watched as the Scarab rapidly picked up speed, thudding along the deck of the _Autumn_, leaving large dents in the titanium.

"We're at speed!" announced Serena, reaching over and hitting one of the holopads. I was driven to the floor as the four massive Covenant engines on the legs fired, propelling the walker up and off the cruiser. "We're headed across to the destroyer. I'll feed the engines some more juice and we should be there in a few seconds."

"Morales, use your demolition kits, fix those holes!" directed Cutter. "Harris, go help him. Five, help Serena with the driving." Morales used his powerful battery-powered blade to cut through one of the panels in the all, uncovering the electronics beneath, then threw it on the ground, saying "Harris, use the blow-torch; weld it to the first hole." Meanwhile, I approached the controls and asked, "What do I do?"

"Take control. I need to configure the weaponry systems." Serena dashed off without even giving me some instructions."

"Okay… Uh, throttles, control device… That's all?"

"Yeah." echoed Serena's voice from somewhere.

The control device was a circle, with two hollow curved lines separated by a crack at the top and bottom of the circle. A dot sat in the middle of each line. Above the left one was marked Pitch, the right was marked Roll. "No yaw?" I grumbled, placing my hands on the dots and moving them up and down experimentally. The Scarab jiggled.

"Ugh, weird Covenant control scheme." I complained as I carefully redirected the hijacked war-machine towards the retreating destroyer. "Shut up and drive." came Cutter's voice from upstairs.

"Fine, fine…" I muttered, sliding two fingers across the controls.

"Okay, we're just about there. Push that flashing blue button with 'deploy' on it." directed Serena.

"Alright." I jabbed down on the display, then clutched at a lever for balance as the Scarab shuddered, changing from a roughly egg-like position to its standard walker form. "We're beginning descent now!" I announced, guiding the unfamiliar walker in as the destroyer's crew finally realised what we were doing and opened fire with their point defence lasers, peppering our Scarab with pink beams of light, which were absorbed harmlessly by the thick armour plating.

"Weaponry system back online!" reported Serena.

"Morales, get on the main cannon! Harris, get to the plasma cannon! Serena, drive! We're gonna bust this destroyer!"

I gave up the holo-controls to Serena, then stood back and watched as the Scarab made contact with the destroyer's outer hull with a crash, but from inside it was as smooth as having stood on a ship that had ran into a small wave. The destroyer immediately rolled to one side, the Scarab's legs smashed through the thick hull and breached the honey-combing chambers beneath, immediately depressurising and venting their atmosphere.

Serena's fingers manipulated the controls, lifting the Scarab out of the mess it had created, then driving an armoured claw again into the stricken hull, smashing through metres of thick metal and electronics, sending huge plates of severed armour plating sailing past us into space. Serena heaved the giant machine out of the giant hole in the side of the Covenant starship and skittered across the hull, cleaving giant trenches across the oval cross sections of the destroyer.

Morales smashed two Seraphs trying vainly to hit us from the side with the Scarab's plasma beam, sending them crashing into the starship with twin blue explosions. I wobbled as small anti-air cannons fired a brace at the back of the walker, causing the robot to automatically stagger as the legs flexed to reduce the load.

Harris reacted quickly enough, turning the giant plasma cannon around and filling the distance between the cannons and us with blue energy bolts. Blue explosions blossomed around the hull as the bolts made contact. Serena smashed through the roof, making the Scarab rear up on two feet like a horse, then bringing it down with a thundering crash, crunching through all sixteen structure layers, stopping only when the two legs exited the bottom of the ship.

"Confirmed reactor failure in the destroyer! Get off the ship!" yelled Keyes loudly into my radio." I slapped the volume down ten notches, then grabbed a panel for safety as Serena fired the four rockets. The Scarab shuddered into the air, Harris letting off a final stream of blue bolts at the Covenant destroyed. Serena spun us around, and pulled well away from the destroyer as it entered its death throes, blue radiation starting to billow out from widening cracks along its backbone.

Suddenly, "Damnit… Keyes to SMS Skull Four, we've taken a major hit to the weaponry control room, all of the close-in turrets' offensive radars are down, Archer missile pods are in reset, the estimated hull integrity is below 62 percent. We can't continue on like this, I'm initiating the Cole Protocol, article one. We're engaging the Slipspace drive in twenty seconds. Can you make it back in time?"

"We can try sir." Cutter severed the connection, then glanced at Serena.

The girl nodded, then jammed the virtual throttles up to maximum power, filling up the brightly-coloured accelerometer to full. Ahead of us, the cruiser was beginning to open up its escape, a black void into the regions of Slipspace, about a full kilometre away.

The realisation sank in that we were not going to make it in time to get aboard the _Pillar of Autumn_. "Serena, change course to the portal. We're going in there." directed Cutter firmly.

**ARGH I'm really disappointed with the chapter. I merely used it as a bridge from Reach to Combat Evolved with a boring series of events. Oh well, read this not as a chapter, but some kind of link, then move onto the next one, which should be returning to my more experienced areas of writing- close-range hand to hand combat. **

**Also, the pressure's really starting to build at school, so I'm spending less time on this and starting my three other tasks, which are Flash animations, Math tests and English essays.**


	19. Escape

Despite their considerable defensive capabilities, Scarabs were not built for Slipspace travels, even ones specially outfitted for vacuum ship-to-ship combat. As such, within a minute of entering the randomly generated portal, the Covenant walker had all of its legs torn off by increasing pressure and all of its offensive capabilities destroyed or otherwise damaged.

When we emerged, battered, immobile and unable to provide any defensive or offensive options at all, the barely functioning external cameras displayed a desperate fight. The _Autumn_ had jumped out of Slipspace below us, a small amount of its forward offensive gun turrets stuttering back to life as electricians and specialists worked desperately to give the Autumn some kind of defensive capability.

"Where are we?" Harris asked, getting up from the floor. "Don't know. I can see the _Autumn_ from here, but the entire right side of the screen's blanked out. A camera must have been torn off or damaged." I stated.

"Any chance to get off this thing?" asked Morales.

"We could blow open the rear door, get in the pods and use the thrusters to get to the _Autumn_" decided Cutter. It sounded like a good plan, so we heaved the six SOEIVs out of the walls and strapped ourselves in. "Cortana, open the rear bay doors, then initiate data purge. Password is _White Dove_." directed Cutter.

The 'dumb' copy of Cortana responded with a red blink of a light on the console of the Scarab, then clanked open the dented, twisted doors of the machine. The vacuum outside rushed in, sucking our pods out like ragdolls in a hurricane. I gripped the hand-grips of the SOEIV, shaking along with the metal coffin as it tumbled out into space. My eyes desperately searched for the emergency "recover" button, which was directly pulled out of the ancient Su-27 fighter jet. The button deployed six ventral braking fins and four small explosive thrusters, and was guaranteed to bring the SOEIV to a stop in atmospheric conditions and in space.

"Get back down to the _Autumn!_ We've got to help her!" yelled Cutter, firing the main rocket on his pod and screaming down towards the small cruiser. "Skull Team, follow my lead!"

"R-Roger!" I slammed the throttle wide open, feeling the satisfying kick as the engines kicked into motion, screaming down in formation with the squad towards the stricken cruiser. She was under attack by no less than eight Covenant capital ships, each one attacking her from a different angle with boarding parties. I couldn't have cared less about the magnificent structure below her- my entire mind was currently on the mission.

We made contact about 2 chambers from the SOEIV launch bay, once again clattering to a shockingly violent halt on the third storey. "Don't come out! The vacuum's still in effect!" warned Serena.

"Cortana! You hear me?" barked Cutter.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"I need an atmosphere in Hangar Four!"

"_You came in through the roof again?"_

"Where else? Just pressurise the chamber and let us get out!"

A green light flashed on the ceiling of the hangar, confirming the pressurisation of the chamber, and then blinked three times, giving us the all clear. "Bay's fully pressurized, oxygen contents rising! Free to dismount! I'm reading new contacts breaking through section H-09, three chambers left of your position. You're the only group close enough to make an initial engagement, hold them off while I call for Marine support!"

"Roger!"

I saw Cutter kick the door open of his pod, for a second wondered where he got his energy from, then flicked the explosive bolt ignition switch. The door blew off, and I half-fell, half stumbled out of the pod, clutching my head. "…That hurt." I moaned, reaching inside the pod and pulling out my guns. I followed Cutter out the door, leaving the rest of the squad, and dashed down the corridor, shaking the buzzing from my brain.

I skidded to a halt behind Cutter, who had primed a grenade and was peeking into the chamber. "Quick, everybody in! They're cutting through the walls! I released the safety of the MA37 I had in my hand, wishing I had the SRS99 or at least Morales's new MA5B. "Captain! Wait! The vacuum…" protested Serena. Cutter swore, charging back out as the plasma beams sliced neatly through the thick hull, already forming a small vacuum. As soon as the leader was out of the way, Harris slammed shut the sliding door, locking it with a beep.

"We have boarders in H-09! We can't get in due to the vacuum effect! Cortana, what are they doing?"

"Hold on… They're setting up a Covenant atmospheric pressurisation unit; two of them have removed their masks, free to go in." Harris quickly undid the lock, and Cutter primed a concussion grenade and rolled it in. The squad pressed their bodies to the hard steel wall as an Elite barked a guttural warning, then charged in, guns up and ready as soon as the grenade detonated with a massive shockwave and a piercing screech.

The aliens were lying on the door, unconscious. We dragged them out and dumped their bodies into the freezing depths of space, where their shapes disintegrated in the _Autumn's _massive magnetic field. "SMS Skull Four to Cortana, hostiles have been eliminated; however, I've got visuals on about six more large landing craft heading for the middle sections of the ship. Have you got any troops there?"

"Most of the Marines are concentrated near the front, fending off an attack on the weapons room. We've got about two hundred only on the specified area."

"Two hundred troops won't do much against that much invaders… I see ten more landing craft approaching. We're going there to fight them off."

"Affirmative. Be careful out there, captain."

"Serena, where are they docking?"

"Uh… Judging by the honey-combing chambers, the contacts should be landing in there, there and there, as per Covenant boarding regulations." Serena's pad displayed three red arrow somewhere in the ship. We were closest to the bottom one. "I'm sending this to Cortana."

"Data received. I'm updating the marine's positions. get to your party, Skull."

"That's a roger, Cortana." we hustled down the twisting hallways, ignoring the red alarms screeching off above our heads. Seconds later, the AI reported, "We have boarders, coming in on Bay 12, 14th Regiment move to engage. SMS Skull Four is moving into position to flank Covenant boarders approaching Galley 14. 5th and 67th Regiment report to the F-78 Armoury to engage Covenant boarders, now on ship."

"That's an AI for you." grinned Cutter as he waited outside the chamber. We heard the metallic clunks of a Covenant landing craft on the titanium surface of the cruiser, then there was a huge thump and the chamber door flew open, and Covenant poured in-to be met by a storm of automatic fire. The Major Elite leading the pack was immediately cut down, and as Morales bent over to reload, the two Minors under the Major's command lunged at him.

I retaliated, dropping the MA37, snatching the combat knife from my pocket, then connecting foot to face. As the Elite stumbled backward, firing his plasma rifle wildly, I pressed the attack, flinging my knife into the shields, depleting them and then opening fire with the M6D strapped to my legs. The unshielded creature went down in three shots.

Meanwhile, the other Elite had disengaged, and I started as his hand closed around my neck. IN a flash, the reptile had me pinned to his chest, the rest of the squad looking on. "My human is not good." he snarled, "but know this. You move, he die."

"May I make a statement?" I spluttered.

"Be silent, human!" The Elite barked.

"You're holding your plasma rifle upside down, split-jaw." I observed anyway. The Elite glanced over, seeing that the twin cooling units were facing the ground. He said something in his native tongue that sounded much like a curse before I jabbed my elbow into the side of his chest, wincing as my armoured arm passed through his shields and connected.

The Elite grunted and dropped me, and I turned the tables, leaving the squad to take care of the Covenant trying to sneak out of the craft. The Elite put up a good fight, slamming his head repeatedly against mine, making my head ring, but I growled and punched him as hard as I could across the face, stunning him for a split-second. I reached for the Elite's melee weapon, a small knife made of the same crystal as the Needlers the Covenant used.

The Elite snarled and tried the wrest the knife from my hand, but I darted past his defence and plunged the knife into his eye, withdrawing it and standing up as the Elite died. I flicked the knife at a Jackal targeting Harris with an overcharge, knocking its plasma pistol from its hands. As the Jackal hissed with surprise, I scooped up the MA37 and used its butt to cave it the side of the bird's head.

An Elite noticed me and began firing. I ducked as burning blue bolts sizzled overhead, then scooped up the turned-off shield mechanism and strapped it to my arm, turning it on as I did so. A pale green shield flickered into life, extending across my chest and head as the bolts whizzed towards the group. My hand jerked violently as the shield took the brunt of the shot, then I transferred the gun to my right hand and fired off all 32 rounds of the MA37 into the Elite.

"Skull to Cortana, we've dispatched most of the Covenant, but a number escaped and headed in the direction of the bridge. You might want to watch out."

"Roger- Captain! We've got stealth signatures… They're exiting the fire control stations for the MAC. What were they doing?"

Something rocked the ship, sending us all to the floor. The floor below us continued to lurch and tremble, and I thought I heard the whoosh of an explosive. "SMS Skull Team, we've got a problem. We're activating the Cole Protocol, Article Two. Covenant stealth just rendered out MAC fire control completely offline! We're sending in a team of engineers to get the computers back online, you're gonna have to cover them on their way in. I- I've got to go now. Don't worry, a SPARTAN's with me. Cortana is signing out."

"Damn… Article Two eh?" sighed Cutter.

"So I guess we're not getting out?" asked Serena.

"We're gonna cover the engineers, then get in a Longsword or a lifeboat. Five.. You know how to fly a Longsword or a Bumblebee, right?'

"It's been a while, but I guess I can do it."

"Alright then. Time to move." Cutter picked up his M90 from the ground, then jogged towards the team of engineers coming this way."

" Captain John Cutter. I suppose you're going to get the fire control for the MAC back online."

"That's right, sir!" answered a young man in a red jumpsuit, his green eyes darting about fearfully. "You know the way, lead us there and we'll protect you." The engineer nodded nervously, and crept down a deserted corridor splashed with a multitude of colour. "That's strange… No Covenant to be found." observed Harris.

"I don't like the look of this…" muttered Grafton. "Keep your fingers on your weapons, everyone." The technicians fingered their M6Ds nervously while I kept the MA37 in a firing position, sweeping left and right. Abruptly, a bright blue light rippled into existence, then slashed into an engineer's chest, staining the back of his yellow uniform with red blood. As the man screamed and died, Cutter roared, "Stealth Elites! Open fire!"

"Computer, Combat stance, infra-red two." The world flickered into brightly painted shapes, some red and white ones assuming the shapes of humans and Elites. I shouldered the rifle and began to fire. Elites appeared clutching wounds as their active camouflage started to die. "Use those pistols! Aim for the heads!" commanded Grafton, sending a fist into an Elite's chest then finishing it off with a sharp boot to the top of the head, cracking its skull.

The engineer who had led us yelled wildly, emptying the pistol's magazine into an Elite. "Move! Move!" screamed Cutter, shoving the engineers around the corner and blasting a round from his shotgun into a lizard's chest. We followed the technicians as they sprinted down the corridors, firing blindly behind us as the Elites gave chase.

"Through here!" yelled the red engineer, waving us into a room. Cutter and Grafton remained at the door, emptying their guns into the squad of aliens. The men were already at the panels, replacing fried parts and putting wrench to uncooperative computer. I cut down a small group of Grunts trying to force their way in, then asked, "How long is it gonna take?"

"A few more minutes, we've brought all the spare parts we need."

I grunted and reloaded, slamming my last clip home. "Last mag!" I called out, returning fire as a Ultra attempted to charge the group. My gun clicked dry at the same time that the Ultra lobbed one of the Covenant's plasma grenades perfectly towards Harris. The ODST cried out as he tried to dodge, but he was pinned between the door and a dead Elite. I leapt up, in front of Harris, swatting the grenade with the assault rifle. It stuck fast, and I hurled the gun at the Ultra.

The weapon hit the Elite near the end of its flight, doing minimal damage-but allowing the grenade to quickly adhere to the strange silver armour. "Done!" a technician yelled as the Elite disappeared in a blue mist. I turned around. All of the fire control computers were back online, lights beeping happily. "Skull to bridge, fire control systems are back online. Give 'em hell."

"Roger. SMS Skull Team, make your way to the Bumblebee pods for the bridge."

"But- Isn't that for the captain's use?"

"I'm bringing this bird down myself."

"R-Roger!" We rushed down the corridors, Up a flight of stairs, and found ourselves in in a firefight. Strangely, there was only one person fighting against more than ten Elites. Even more weirdly, she was a young girl, no more than nineteen, Asian, by the looks of it, but with an odd paleness to her skin, with serious deep black eyes, an expressionless mouth and a half-fringe across the right side of her head. The rest of her hair as tied in a medium-length ponytail at the left side of her head. What was the most shocking, was the fact that she was wearing a T-shirt and pants, both with the ODST symbol on them. She wore a silver backpack, and as she spun to avoid a plasma bolt, I glimpsed the SMS logo on it. Instead of a gun, she grasped a nodachi two-handed sword.

The girl curled above the Minor firing on her, twisting over its head as it looked up in surprise. Before he could even react, the nodachi had imbedded itself in his chest and the Elite was dead, purple blood seeping out of its wound. The girl extracted the blade and ducked as another Minor eager for combat lunged, sailing over her body with a startled cry. In another second, that Elite was dead too, a long rippling slash down its body.

The girl snorted and swept the large two-handed weapon around, cleaving an Elite Major's head clean off and sending it to the floor. The Ultra leading the pack raised a hand at its scared charges to stop them retreating, then pointed a finger and growled in his guttural snarl, "Sword-wielder. Honourable enemy. We fight."

The girl stared at the Elite for a full two seconds, then placed her sword on the ground. "What you doing?" growled the Ultra.

"I will fight you with this weapon." she answered, pulling a thick rod out of her thigh pouch. The device telescoped out, and I realised that it was a bow. "My other sword." she lied, notching an arrow, then flicked it about her body as if it were one. The Ultra chuckled. "Noble sword-wielder, today you die! I will gain honour by fighting you!"

"Not today." the girl answered, as the Ultra charged, deploying its energy sword in a spark of blue light. The female dropped below the first slash of the Elite, causing the aliens to murmur in their native tongue. Cutter waved us out, and we emerged behind the group of Elites. There was seven of them, and six of us. One of us would have to kill two. Cutter counted down to one, and Grafton was the one for the task, seizing the heads of two Minors and clanging them together, sending both to the floor. The rest of us simply plunged out knives through the alien's guts and sent them sprawling.

Meanwhile, the girl had dodged another attack, then started a fast sprint to get some distance. The Ultra followed, laughing wildly when the girl stopped at the end of the hallway and raised her bow. With a twang, the arrow was let loose, slamming straight through the Elite's shields and imbedding itself in his head. "In some cases, trickery beats honour." the girl told the shocked and dying lizard, before it slumped to the ground.

It was only then she noticed us. "…A SMS unit?" she said.

"SMS Skull Four."

"S-SMS Shrike One-Six."

_Shrike?_ I turned the word over in my head, dragging a memory out of storage. In the SMS employee introductory handbook, there had been a list of all the SMS field operatives and their specialities. SMS Shrike was the best of the best, not counting their SPARTAN equivalent, the SMS Serpent teams. Each member was hand-picked from across the SMS field of operations for having been rated more than 99.8 percent on the SMS combat competence chart. They were instructed to bring their own weapons to the fight, a break from the usual strict standards on a squad. Of course, nearly all the Shrike units, along with SMS Command had been wiped out in Reach. Shrike units were called in to compete extraordinary feats- rumour had it that two SMS Shrike teams could execute a mission that would normally have taken a detachment off a UNSC recon fleet.

"So... You're Shrike, eh?" mused Cutter.

"And you're Skull Four. I've heard the stories. You could be Shrike yourselves. Command was officially going to raise your positions, but then the damn aliens glassed Reach…" responded the girl. "D-Do you have a ride out of here?" she asked urgently.

"Bridge just gave us permission to use their Bumblebee, and we've got a pilot." said Cutter, pointing at me.

"Thank god… I had given up on surviving." the Shrike operative sighed.

"We haven't got much time. Let's go. We can all introduce ourselves later."

Cutter dashed down the corridors, leading us left and right until we reached the waiting Bumblebee escape lifeboat. "Keyes to 45th Regiment. You there?" rasped the captain.

"We're there. Heavy casualties sustained, but we managed to get all the lifeboats launched. The Master Chief is on one too."

"Thank god he survived. He's going to be a major asset. Have the SMS men escaped yet?"

"No sir-"

"We're at the lifeboat now. We picked up a Shrike as well."

"All right son, I'm unlocking the Bumblebee. Good luck."

"..You too sir." The doors hissed open, revealing the special bridge lifeboat. I slid into the pilot's seat, visually checking the controls. _Throttles, stick, pedals, airbrakes… All set._

"Strap in, everyone!" I called.

"Strapped in!" responded Harris.

I started up the basic navigation computer, then shut my eyes and blew the switch. The short stubby lifeboat blasted out of the airlock with a thump, settling down to a slow cruise. A voice crackled over the radio. "Confirmed escape of SMS Skull Four and Shrike operative."

"My two concerns have been addressed. Now, I can fight without worrying… All bridge staff, report in!"

"Navigation!"

"Engines!"

"Weaponry!"

"Helm!"

"Alright, ladies, let's give 'em hell. Engines begin brute force attack shift. Weaponry, bring MAC online, prepare for rapid fire combat! Navigation, plot a course to the ring! We're gonna break through!" It was only then I noticed the ring. It was, simply described, _magnificent_. White wisps of cloud covered seas and green grasslands and forests, broken only by the occasional brown or snow white of mountains and deserts. In the center of the ring hovered a small star.

"Who the hell made this?" wondered Cutter.

"Beats me. Anyway, introduction time." said the girl.

"I'm Setsuna Saotome. Martian, eighteen."

"Call me Harris."

"Jasper Grafton. Nice to see you."

"Serena Grants."

"John Cutter."

"Morales."

"I'm-" I began, but was cut off as a destroyer screamed over us, plasma guns blazing.

"Main guns return fire! Load the MAC! Helm, evasive five degrees descent!"

"Five degrees descent for evasion, aye!" bellowed someone. Blue and yellow fire whipped around us, the destroyer's shields flickering under the damage, but holding strong, whereas the _Autumn _ was pummelled by the plasma eruptions on her hull. "MAC is ready for action!"

"Navigation, attack angle six degrees ascent, lock it in!'

"Aye sir, six degrees ascent, all locked up."

"MAC's got a tone, MAC's registering!"

"Fire!" bellowed Keyes.

"Shit!" I swooped away as the MAC erupted in a beam of white light cutting through the void, right into the destroyer's amidships. "Direct hit! She's going under!" yelled the weaponry operator jubilantly.

"This sucks…" I said as the Covenant starship snapped in two.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Saotome.

"No choice! We've got to go in between the two halves, I can't turn in time!" I snapped, then wrested the Bumblebee in a roll to the right to avoid a Hunter and a large pillar. Bits of debris came at me from all angles, and I weaved through them as carefully as I could. "Look out for that Wraith!" yelled Harris, pointing out the cockpit window. "Thanks!" I answered, veering away from the heavy tank, then pulled the stick to my stomach in a tight turn right.

"We're clear of the debris field!" I announced.

"Next target, bearing zero-fiver-zero, altitude six hundred, rapid descent at a twenty-six angle of attack to engage us."

"Load MAC, get the nose up to twenty-six, lock onto target."

"Helm rise twenty six degrees, aye sir, now locking onto target."

I twisted in my seat to watch the action as the _Pillar of Autumn_ reared up like a horse, then fired off another round from its MAC at the diving destroyer. The shaft of light snapped through space, connecting with the bulbous head of the Covenant starship. The 144-ton warhead punched clean through the bridge, ending up near the amidships, shearing the ugly thing nearly in two.

"That man is an ace…" I whispered quietly. "Did you see that?" I called.

"What?"

"Keyes pulled off a Pugachev's Cobra!" I said excitedly. "In space!"

"Just drive." commanded Cutter, back-handing me across the back of the head.

"Ouch.. Okay." I sighed and hunched over the controls, following the stream of lifeboats into the atmosphere. "Cutter, you might want to get back in your seat, things are gonna start to get just a little bit violent." I said, keeping an eye on the outside temperature. "Okay." Cutter left the cockpit, and I deployed the airbrakes as soon as I felt the shock of the atmosphere coming into contact with the Bumblebee. A dark shadow fell over us, and I looked up as a burning, stricken _Pillar of Autumn_ screamed overhead, one of its two main drivers flickering and trailing smoke.

A damaged CSS-Class Battlecruiser chased after the Autumn, only for the Halcyon-class cruiser to flip around and fire off a MAC round, scraping a cylindrical gouge out of the side of the starship. The battlecruiser withdrew, and the _Autumn_ continued on. "All right, I'm bringing us in to land…" I spied a strip of yellow sand next to crystalline waters and pulled towards it. This was the most dangerous part of the landing. Land in water that it too deep, you'll drown. Land on rock, you get destroyed. Sand, however, was perfect. I just didn't know what was under the sand. "We're landing, everybody brace for impact!" I ducked behind the controls as the airbrakes tore off, and we dropped into the beach with a thunderous roar.

My head swam for a while before I shook ,myself into consciousness. My helmet was scratched, but it had protected from the sharp glass of the LCD screens of the controls. I heaved myself out of my seat and clambered awkwardly up into the seating area. Everybody was hunched over, either dead or unconscious. The clear back of the Bumblebee was pointing at the sky- we had buried ourselves. I went back into the cockpit and tried to start up the engines. To my surprise, they worked. I raised the stick, and the escape craft's tiny engines strained to get us out of the sand. At last, the nose thrusters unclogged and blew us out with a whoosh.

I stripped Serena's kits for Anadrin, and finding some, injected them into everybody once I checked their pulse. Saotome was first to wake up, her training kicking in, she snapped out of her seatbelts with a crack and drew her nodachi. "Whoa! It's me, calm down!" I shouted, shooting both hands into the air. Saotome held the position for a second, then sighed and sheathed her sword, and promptly collapsed.

"Why isn't anybody else getting up?" I wondered aloud. I examined the packets of Anadrin needles. _In case of severe concussion (hard impact at more than 60 mph, objects hitting cranium at more than 55 mph etc.), Anadrin will take effect in around ten minutes. _I sighed. "Wonder if the atmosphere's breathable…" I said, pulling Serena's pad and examining it. I found the feature I was looking for. Extending an atmospheric sampler, I held my breath and poked the pad out through a small crack I made in the door.

_Atmospheric conditions have a 99.7% similarity to Earth atmospheric conditions. Safe to breathe._ I sighed in relief, picked up Saotome's prone form and carried her outside. _Maybe the air should do her good._ I thought, breathing in the strange mixture in the atmosphere. It didn't smell like normal air, too clinical and clean. It could possibly be filtered. In any case, I put her down in the shade of a rock and looked around. The pod had crashed somewhere on the beach, near a grove of trees and a small river. A plume of black smoke over a hill about twenty kilometres away revealed the location of another pod. I would go check on them later. The first thing a Marine is trained to do if he finds himself on a potentially hostile environment is to secure a safe place to return to, with sufficient food, water and shelter. I went back inside, fished a SMS standard issue personal tent out of my backpack and telescoped the device out. I soon had a tent on the ground ready to go. Next, I used the pad to test for fresh water in the stream. It was drinkable, and there were small fish-like animals darting around in the water. I hoped they were edible, we would have to save our MREs.

The trees supplied a steady source of firewood, and I soon had a small fire going and a small pot of water over the flames to boil. Leaving the stuff there, I checked on Saotome, feeling her forehead. She didn't have a fever, so I didn't know what had come over her- The girl suddenly sat up with a gasp, bashing her head against my helmet.

"Gah! Don't suddenly wake up like that!" I winced, removed my helmet and rubbed my forehead. "Sorry." she said simply. Cutter tumbled out of the pod. "Sitrep…" he droned, staggering like a drunk. "Cutter! Wake up!" I called, walking over to him and shaking his shoulders. "Five! Where are we?" Cutter looked around.

"Not too sure myself… The rest of the team should be recovering by now." Soon enough, the rest of the squad had more or less gotten over their experience and had set up camp around the fire, leaving us to our first cold night in this place. The star above us had gone dimmer and dimmer until it altogether had vanished, leaving just a white glow around us. I sighed under the SMS sleeping bags and tried to go to sleep. 


	20. Firebase Beta

"Six heat signatures, coming in at about two o'clock high." I raised the SMS electronic binoculars and scanned the skies, zooming in on the six burning plumes of flame and smoke as they curled through the air, landing with a dull thump over the next hill. We had been sitting next to the lifeboat when this happened. It was about 6:00am local space time, and the sun was getting brighter in the sky.

We had decided to set up a distress beacon and wait for an extraction. I had scouted over the hill to look at the other pod that had landed, but it contained only blood splatters and a few weapons and ammunition. The Covenant had taken the men on board. It took an hour to lug the six guns back up the hill and roll them down to the bottom, but it was worth it- an MA5B, SRS99C-S2 Anti-Material rifle, a M90 shotgun, a SRS99 sniper rifle and a DMR. I headed straight for the SRS99.

The rest of the squad mulled over their own battered weapons, Cutter simply releasing his mag and snapping it into the scavenged MA5B. Harris picked up the DMR, throwing away his empty one, and Serena snatched the SRS99C. Grafton and Saotome seemed to be content with their own weapons, both polishing them by the side of the gurgling stream.

Two hours had passed after that, and now I was standing on top of the Bumblebee, looking over the rolling green hill at the six symmetrical plumes of black oily smoke rapidly ascending into the sky. "They've just made impact." I reported. "Do you know what they are?" asked Saotome, coming over.

"Not yet. I'll replay the recordings in slow-motion." I handed the SMS binoculars to Serena, who set up a Bluetooth connection to her pad, then played and slowed down the recordings from the camera mounted on the binoculars. I glimpsed a piece of purple metal and bright blue plasma plume amidst the burning flames and smoke of re-entry. "Covenant." I declared, immediately reaching unconsciously for the SRS.

"Do we fight?" asked Harris.

Cutter nodded. We made our way into the trees, creeping forward slowly until we were on top of the hill. "What are the hostiles?" asked Grafton.

"Seems like a squad of Elites and Grunts." I replied, browsing through all the potential targets. "Got it." nodded Saotome, springing forward from her hiding spot. "Hey! Sao-Wait!" I called out.

"Let her go." whispered Cutter. The girl dashed down the hill as a minor Elite barked a warning and lifted its plasma rifle. The Japanese girl rushed past the blue armoured alien, cleaving its arm off as she sprinted past. Before the Elite had fallen, she had flipped over the two Majors in the pack, telescoped her bow out in mid-air and strung an arrow as she landed, levelling the weapon as she did so. The ancient weapon twanged, skewering the two veterans through their guts.

Two Grunts armed with Needlers unleashed a volley of pink crystals at her. Saotome simply dropped her bow and drew her blade. The metal rippled faster than my eyes could see, and the barrage of crystals either shattered or spiralled off into the sky. The Grunts dropped their weapons and ran. Saotome was upon them in a second, sweeping through their ranks with great cleaves.

In seconds, all their attackers were dead, and Saotome was back amongst us. "What?" she asked innocently, her eyes questioning. "…Nothing. We'd better get back."

"Hey, now that the Covenant know that there's a 'sword-wielder' among us, won't they be especially targeting our squad?"

Cutter thought about it, then answered, "Yes, but only if they know what she looks like. And I don't think she's going to let any Covenant check her out and survive." I chuckled.

"What's so funny?" asked the new addition.

"Gah!" We both jumped.

"Sheesh… Why is everybody so scared of me?" she wondered.

"Uh… Because you just demonstrated to us from the second time that you can kill nearly six aliens on par with the SPARTANs and their charges within a minute?" I blurted.

"They aren't that hard to beat, besides, the Covenant is unused to direct melee combat, so their shields are primarily adapted to absorbing damage from projectile weaponry. Their shields let large objects pass through, although compensating slightly by attempting to send a charge through the attacker, but which also drains the battery rapidly. I put a rubber coating on the nodachi's hilt, so I won't be affected by the shields." Saotome explained. "I won't hurt you guys, though." She added, with a smile. "I suppose I'm SMS Skull Seven from now on."

"Well, good to have you on the team. I'll take the time to tell you about the team later." Cutter answered, putting both black-gloved hands on the back of his head and leaning backwards casually. Back at the camp, Harris silently nursed the glowing red embers of the flames, while Serena poked about with the insides of one of the fish animals. "Edible." she declared, pulling out her pad's probe.

"Nice gadget. What is that?" asked our newest team member.

"Veritech Model 6300. Avalon Portable Electronics. Comes with electronic sapped, hacking program, data share from any computer system, human or Covenant currently in the database, other electronic evaluation and scanning instruments."

"Interesting." Saotome went over to the stream, checking the four lines that I had stung over the water. She came back empty-handed. "Looks like MREs again tonight." she said. I sighed and threw out the shiny foil packets; keeping one for myself and pulling the heat tab. Morales put his on the sand and continued to pound away at our damaged distress beacon. "You eating it?" asked Grafton.

Morales shook his head, so our second-in-command grabbed the MRE, throwing his one across the flames to Harris. The food inside the packet was cooked wrong, and it turned my stomach over, but at least it filled up to hollow in my chest. The meal finished, I dumped the disposable foil wrapper in the fire and sat there in the dull orange-red glow of the crackling embers. As the rest of the squad, excluding Morales, crawled back into their tents and bunkered down for the second night, I began to sharpen my knife, the metallic screeching mixing with the clanging and clicking of Morale's tools to create an eerie melody that played out of the small lapping waves.

I went to sleep at about 2am local space time, leaving Morales to work through the night. In the bright morning, as we one-by-one emerged from our tents, Morales drifted past, muttering, "It's working. I'm hitting the sack." Sure enough the transmitting device was bleeping in a strong, steady tone, and in a few hours, I spotted the bulky shadow of a D-77 TC Pelican on the horizon, whirring back and forth in a grid pattern. "Get the flare gun." commanded Grafton. The bright orange handgun-like device was lying in the sand next to me, so I scooped it up, raised my hand to the sky and fired off the round.

A green flare blasted out of the gun, reaching up and into the air in a plume of white smoke, then deployed a small parachute and began its slow descent. The dropship pilots must have noticed, for a few minutes later, the Pelican screamed overhead for a reconnaissance pass, circled once, then hovered in to land, bring its 70mm chaingun to bear as it did so.

We immediately dropped our weapons and put our hands up in the air. "Pelican Banjo Six-Four-Eight to SMS Skull Team, state authentication Alpha-Poppy-Zero."

"Affirmative, Banjo Six-Four-Eight, authentication code for Alpha-Poppy-Zero is Theta-Rosemary-Four, status is Green-Six."

"That's a clear, SMS Skull team, get on board. Leave the campsite and your weapons; we'll get you new ones at the base." I threw the SRS99 to the ground, following the other's example, except for Saotome, who kept her sword and bow. The dropship took off with a lurch, and soon we were soaring over lush green rainforests. "How long have you been here?" asked Cutter.

"Eh… 'Bout two days, I suppose? We just recently established a forward firebase, we've got Pelicans in a grid pattern fanning out from the base, but the Covenant seem to have a pretty strong-" Everybody instinctively hunkered down as a CSS-Class cruiser screamed overhead, covering us with its shadow for a full three seconds.

"-hold on this place." finished the pilot, then added, "bloody wankers." Everybody sat in silence for the next five minutes until we reached the firebase. It was nothing much, a vehicle pool which contained a few hundred Warthogs, fifty or sixty Scorpions, and a few Elephants. A dirt airstrip was already established at the far end of the clearing, and a few towers and buildings hastily constructed out of quick-dry concrete lay sprinkled around the mud clearing. A group of engineers were constructing a turret ready to be manned as we droned over them. The pilot touched down at the end of the airstrip next to some Falcons assembling for takeoff, and we spilled out and looked around.

"You probably want to go to the debriefing room, over there, then to the armoury, over there, and find somewhere to sleep." said the pilot helpfully. "Grow crew, get over here! I need a fuel-up!" We made our way through the frantic, bustling town-like firebase to the specified de-briefing room, along with a small group of other battered Marines and technicians from the UNSC _Pillar of Autumn_.

The room itself had barely been constructed, with only a sickly pair of green-blue lights, a table and an ancient holo-display, and a couple of plastic chairs. The shiny plasta-carbon floor screeched as I dragged a chair to sit next to Morales and Serena. A Marine sergeant stalked in through the door, smoking a large cigar. 'Sgt Johnson' read the ID badge on his shoulder.

"Listen up, ladies!" he barked, spit and cigar ash flying everywhere. "This is only our second base here, so we're taking it carefully. We don't know if the captain is still alive, or the Master Chief, but we do know the Covenant have a strong presence here. I hate to say it, but we're not going to attack without the SPARTAN or the captain. As you all should know, a group of ODSTs dropped earlier, and have set up Alpha base, 'round bout 300 klicks from here. They report status is green and they managed to stop a Covenant assault. We're just the survivors. Our current objective is to secure the surrounding area, then begin sending out recon and rescue flights. Any groups that made it out alive after Reach will be integrated into our new forces, Regiment 1 and 2." he glanced at our squad, sitting separately from the rest. "Apart from the SMS Squad over there. For now, we just need you to help out with building the defences. That'll be-"

A hollow, eerie scream whooshed through the air, fading away as quickly as it came. It was the definite sound of a Banshee. "Damn it, that was their reconnaissance flight! Quickly to the armoury, two blocks away from here! Go!" yelled Johnson. We did need to be told twice. All of us dashed out of the building as an alarm began to wail. The armoury was a massive chamber lined with weapons salvaged from the starship, packing more than enough weapons for all of the people at the base.

"Five, get the rocket launcher, Four, hand me that MA5! The rest of you pick up whatever you want." commanded Cutter. I pulled the heavy weapon off the rack, snatching six rockets from the shelves as well. "I suppose you're not using these weapons?" I said to Saotome. She shook her head and motioned to her bow.

We piled outside, led by the rough-talking sergeant, hurrying us on with pone hand while he held a MA5 with the other. "Four to a turret!" he commanded. The UNSC soldiers fanned out, quickly assembling into small teams which dashed to a turret each. We were first at the controls of Turret 7, a simple LAAG taken off a Warthog and mounted on top of a hastily constructed tower.

Morales quickly slid behind the handles of the weapon, while Grafton stood by with a fresh belt of ammunition ready to go. The whole base looked like it was in turmoil, but in reality, everybody was acting on strictly enforced rules of conduct. All but ten of the Pelicans and Falcons lifted off and buzzed away to a pre-set location, ready to return when they were given the all clear. The ground vehicles trundled into the thick shrubs and stood ready to ambush the attackers. All non-combatants were ushered into whatever cover the Marines could find- in a trench, under cover of the trees, or inside a building.

Soon enough, the Covenant came looking for trouble. Fifty dots appeared in the afternoon sky, gradually morphing into shapes of Banshees and Spirits. "First contacts! We've got twenty Spirits and thirty Banshees approaching from zero-niner-zero! Free to engage! Free to engage!"

"Where's Harris?" asked Grafton.

"Yeah, where the hell is that guy?" agreed Cutter.

"Coming!" yelled Harris from under us. He cradled in his arm some kind of massive weapon.  
"What's that?" asked Cutter as Harris climbed laboriously up the ladder, eventually arriving at the top and dropping the device with a metallic clang. "It's one of them new missile pods." he explained, rolling the pod over and telescoping three legs, then putting the pod firmly on the ground. He cracked open a slot in the side of the weapons, showing us the rockets inside.

"SS2-AM High Explosive Folding-Fin Anti-Aircraft Rockets. One shot of this will take out a Banshee." Harris continued, snapping the loading chute back up and looking through the aiming reticule. "Homes too." he added, twisting a knob on top to adjust for something.

"It seems like we have enough firepower. Seven, Five, get down and attack from the ground."

"Hey, Five." Saotome said as we climbed down the steel rings.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"I've tried this tactic before. I'll shoot an arrow through the Banshee's anti-gravity device; you hit it with the rocket launcher."

"Got it." I dropped down to the muddy ground and lifted the launcher. "Let's go."

The first of the attackers screamed through the air, unleashing their single-shot fuel-rod cannons at the base. A tower crumbled instantly as the green blobs of radioactive energy smashed into it, erupting in white clouds of smoke as they hit. Earth and water began to fly up around as the Banshees opened fire with their plasma cannons. Saotome pulled back the bowstring, then released it with a _twang_ as the first Banshees twirled towards us.

A second later, the leading aircraft wobbled as its left anti-gravity drive fizzled out, and as it slowed, I fired the rocket. The missile ran true, and the Banshee exploded in a ball of fire. I whooped- then dived out of the way as the burning, crumpled wreck crashed to the ground and skidded for twenty metres down the main trail before crunching into the wall of a debriefing room.

Saotome was already on her feet, notching another arrow and aiming. Before she could fire, a missile exploded out of our tower and screamed straight towards the Banshee. The aircraft looped desperately for a few seconds before Morales managed to hit it with a brace of shells, slowing it just enough for the missile to impact. "Spirit! Spirits coming down!" barked Johnson. "All available Marines standby to repel invaders!" Sure enough, the curious fork-shaped dropships were landing all over the base, Covenant assault troops spilling out from their cargo bay.

I levelled the SPNKR launcher at the first group of Elites and Jackals, firing and taking half of the group out. Saotome quickly switched targets and put an arrow through the Major leading the pack's eyeball. Marines rushed forwards, some of them dying, but the rest opened fire with whatever weapons they had, dropping some Grunts and forcing the others to take cover behind some Pelicans.

Two Banshees swooped round and blasted the Marines to shreds with their guns and fuel rods. Saotome hit another one's pod, and Morales finished the job, stitching a line of bullet holes in the fuselage of the attacker. Two of the Falcons lifted off, chin cannons buzzing away and Marine gunners sweeping the ground with machinegun fire. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ground crew desperately attempting to roll out a white combat UCAV, only to be wiped out by the wreckage of a Spirit.

The sky above us lit up with yellow and white pencil-thin lines of fire, sweeping in wide arcs as they followed their targets. "Next set of attackers inbound, this time bearing zero-four-eight!" reported somebody. more Spirits and Banshees screamed in, cannons blazing, decimating Tower Eight, which fell apart like paper under the storm of plasma. I snapped the next two rockets in and thumbed the launch button, hitting the Shade turret mounted under the second Spirit landing. "Morales, take the Covenant infantry out!" barked Cutter over our private channel.

"Got it, one!" Morales swept his turret around, chewing up a squad of frightened Grunts peering round the corner of the hangar. A UCAV finally succeeded in taking off, immediately taking out a pair of Banshees with its powerful 20mm Vulcan cannons and combat missile package. More UCAVs rolled out of the hangar-the flight crew finally got their act together. "Spirits are packing up! I repeat, Spirits are packing up!" yelled someone excitedly over the radio.

Sure enough the Covenant dropships, as well as some damaged Banshees were withdrawing from the combat zone, leaving just ten aircraft to battle it out with the two F-99 Wombats cruising the skies above our base. On the down side, however, my motion tracker was filled with red contacts coming this way. Elites, Hunters, Jackals and Grunts spilled out into the dirt roads of the base, plasma weapons blazing.

I rolled away from a Hunter's assault cannon and fired off both tubes in response. The Hunter managed to deflect the first rocket, but the second round hit it in the gut, severing it in two. I jettisoned the pack, loading my last pair in, then turned around and fired one into an approaching force, and then fired one into a Banshee threating Tower Seven.

I threw the useless weapon away and drew my butterfly knife, extending and locking the blade and spinning it about my fingers as a challenge. Two Elite Majors rushed at me, drawing Energy Swords and screaming a battle-cry. I lunged forward, impaling the blade in one's chest. Purple blood spurted from the wound as I withdrew, burning my fingers as I disengaged from the shield.

I whirled to face the other Elite, only to see the back of his wrist. The hand slammed into my VISOR, hard, and I fell to the ground, the Elite stepping on my hand and raising its sword. I looked about. Next to me, a dead Marine, one killed by the original fuel rod attack. His MA5B lay still clutched by his burnt fingers. I scrabbled the gun from his charred hand and raised it as the Elite drew back ready to stab.

The gun had a full magazine. I used it all up, holding down the trigger and emptying the weapon into the Major's shields. The force of the sixty bullets shorted out his shields and sent him stumbling backwards. Saotome's sword sprouted from his red-armoured chest. The girl withdrew the blade, toppling the giant alien as blood began to spurt from the wound. I got up groggily to my feet, nodding at Saotome, who repeated the gesture in acknowledgement.

I quickly scavenged three clips off ammunition from the dead Marine's body then ducked as a Banshee opened fire, chewing the debriefing room to bits. "Confirmed attackers at the runway! All available forces move to the runway!" barked the radio operator.

"Go! We'll be fine!" commanded Cutter. I sprang forward, firing down the iron sights at any Covenant in front of me. A squad of Marines pushed through some Covenant and opened up with a 50. Cal deployable turret, pinning down the main Covenant force, but not for long. A brace of plasma grenades fizzled through the air, landing in the middle of the small group, and three seconds later the entire team disappeared under identical blue mists.

"This is Foxtrot Squad to base, seems like Charlie has been completely wiped out! We're gonna need some pretty heavy support here, cause we're moving up to fill their position."

"Affirmative, Foxtrot, is anybody free to assist?"

I glanced at Saotome, who nodded. "This is SMS Skull Five and Seven. We're free to assist and we have you in sight." I said.

"Affirmative SMS Skull, we're starting our move up to pin the Covenant forces coming down from sector B-7."

"Roger that, we're coming up behind them. Try and draw their attention for us." commanded Saotome. "Will do. Right, Collins, Harman, move up, open fire!" We sprinted forward, ducking as a Banshee wheeled towards us and opened fire a second before a burst of 20mm cannon from a pursuing F-99 brought it down. The Covenant squads in front were completely focused on the Foxtrot squad ahead, keeping their plasma fire raining down with metallic screeches.

I unslung the MA5 and pressed down hard on the trigger, watching the yellow streaks of tracer eat into the Elites at the back of the assault. They had barely turned to face me when Saotome jumped at them, nodachi firmly grasped and mid-swing. He first blow was with the butt of the weapon, knocking the Major she was targeting out, then she rolled away as an Elite Ultra attacked with its energy sword, then attacked two Minors as I approached, throwing away the empty rifle and drawing my M6D and combat knife.

The Ultra roared and sliced towards me, but I dropped below the attack and aimed for his crotch. My leg made contact, breaking through the shields with a sharp sizzle and struck armour. The Elite stumbled backwards, tripped over a small rock and staggered, barely maintaining its balance. I a second, I was standing on its chest. I fired half the M6D's magazine at point-blank range into its shields, then as they faded away, I stabbed it in the face with the combat knife, pressing past its four jaws and feeling the impact as blade met brain matter.

I had all the air in my lungs pushed out of me as a Major screamed and smashed the butt of its weapon across my head. "Shit!" I yelled, flipped up to face the Major as it extended its energy sword and raised my M6D. The Elite jerked as Saotome again saved me, the sharp, thin blade of her sword appearing as she stabbed it in the back.

A cloaked Stealth Elite rippled into view behind Serena as it prepared to strike her down, its energy sword only now deploying in a flash. I didn't say anything- it was too late, but instead, fired my pistol past the girl's left shoulder into the Elite's head and neck, knocking it backwards and depleting its weak shields just enough for Saotome to disengage and whirl round, taking the reptile's head off.

"SMS Skull! Retreat! We've got visuals on Hunter's coming your way! I repeat, disengage! We'll take care of this from here!"

"Hunters! Shit!" I cursed, pulling Saotome along with me as the giant Covenant warriors emerged from the smoke of the battlefield. The hulking monsters roared and clanked towards us with surprising speed. "Go on ahead! I'll be there in a second!" I yelled, snatching two grenades out of my pockets. "But…" murmured Saotome, looking back at me with hesitation.

"I'll be right back! Keep on going!" I yelled back, flicking the pins off the two ZPGI grenades I held in both hands. "O-okay!" The girl turned away and continued her escape. The safety pins off, I had access to the mechanical timers of the ZPGI grenades. I depressed them both to the minimum three second timer, saw the sharp spikes fire out of the bottom, and slapped the two grenades to the walls around me, then turned and sprinted for my life.

The Hunters continued to chase, relying on their sense of smell rather than their weak vision. Because of that, they never were aware of the ZPGIs I had planted in the walls. They were right next to them when the grenades detonated. ZPGI stood for Zero-Point Ground Impact, and the grenades were made for demolishing walls, because they concentrated all their explosive force into the spike, which was jabbed into the target. The result of this was a short, sharp crack, which exploded outwards violently.

The two walls fractured outwards in massive pieces, pelting the two pursuing monsters in two-metre thick slabs of concrete. I turned around, then sighed. There was still much to do before I could relax.


	21. Hello

Hello.

This is an update to let you know I'm still alive and kicking. If you live in Australia, you probably know that Term 4 Week 4 is the generally accepted timeframe for the yearly report tests to begin. Therefore, I haven't abandoned this site yet, I'm simply too busy studying and doing a history Flash assignment for this work. I will probably update again after a week, when my tests are over.

Goodbye.


	22. Truth and Reconciliation

_AN:HUZZAH it's finished. I thought I'd treat you all with an extra long chapter. Anyway, so the Year 8 Yearly tests have passed, as well as that pesky History flash so I should be back on track for now, as essentially the term's already over, except for a Japanese test this Friday. You can expect more frequent updates now._

The battle didn't last long after that, and the Covenant withdrew, content to shell us a few times a day with their Wraiths. That slowed down the rebuilding of the base, though with a few improvised combat barriers, the plasma bomb rain was mostly diverted, and the base's rebuild continued on. I wiped the sweat from my brow as I heaved the last barrel of Scorpion fuel into the storage facility behind the vehicle pool. I plunged my hands into the baggy pockets of my tan trousers and looked up at the sky.

Rain today. Above me, Saotome sat on the rough steel-wire stairs, crafting new arrowheads out from steel she had taken from the growing scrapheap, just a few roads away from the vehicle pool and attaching them to identically smooth cylinders of wood twenty centimetres long she had snapped and shaped out of the trees surrounding our base. Overhead, a single Pelican dropship cruised overhead, circling the base once before touching down at the airstrip.

"That's Foehammer. Apparently she's got the Master Chief on board." said Cutter nonchalantly. The squad started to drift towards the runway. I looked at Saotome. "You coming?"

"Yeah." She swung herself off the railing and dropped to the ground, joining Skull Team as we walked away from the vehicle pool. The green armoured super-soldier stepped out of the Pelican and looked about the base, then turned and walked immediately to a waiting Johnson. "Master Chief." greeted the Marine. The soldier remained silent, but the AI Noble Six helped bring to the Pillar of Autumn, Cortana, spoke out through the SPARTAN's helmet-mounted speakers.

"No time to talk, Johnson. I just found out that Keyes is alive off the Covenant . He's being held on the Covenant cruiser _Truth and Reconciliation_. We just came here to stock up on ammunition and get the Chief healed up. My calculations indicate we are going to need at least four squads of Marines to help us secure the captain, and at least another six to disable the ship's primary plasma fusion system in order for us to get in."

Johnson stroked his chin in thought. "Six, eh? That's a lot of Marines. How about one?"

"Johnson. This is not the time to be playing around."

"I am not playing around, lady. See them over there?" Johnson pointed at us. "S-M-S Skull Four." he said, pronouncing each word with finality. "The very finest."

"Huh. An SMS unit, eh?" mumbled Cortana, as the Master Chief turned to face us, yellow visor hiding his face. Cutter snapped to attention and saluted. I refrained, as saluting a computer seemed strange. The Chief turned back to Johnson.

"We'll have to land in the canyons that the cruiser is docked at, because if we get too close, we'll all be blown to smithereens by their defences. The latest imagery I downloaded from their showed a single path through, lined with Covenant troops and defences. It's not going to be easy. But, if the SMS squad drops in through the hull, some of the Covenant troops are going to be called back, leaving only medium resistance for the main attack party."

"I see. Okay, I'll get the Marines ready, Skull Four, get kitted up and report for duty at the vehicle pool. Master Chief, what weapons do you need?" the sergeant asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

"Give me a SRS99 with an extra forty bullets. I'll also take a MA5, half-load only." the SPARTAN said. "Alright. Let's move it." said Johnson, shaking the Chief's hand, saluting at us, then disappeared into the crowd to organise the Marines.

We made our way into the armoury. "If I don't get a sniper mission soon, my aim's going to get rusty." I complained, picking out a DMR and a MA5B from the rack. "Same here." agreed Serena, picking off clips of M6D ammunition and loading them into her belt. Grafton hefted a M90 and a DMR; Morales selected a SPNKR launcher and a pistol, while Harris and Grafton both went for the MA5 assault rifle and a M6. Saotome was as usual waiting for us, sharpening her sword.

"Don't you usually sharpen that end?" I asked, pointing to one side of the nodachi. "If I'm in a close-quarter fight, I want to be prepared for quick strikes. I'm sharpening both edges so I can block and strike faster, though the side I'm accustomed to will wear out sooner." she explained, sheathing the sword and starting on a small dagger.

After the squads had assembled at the vehicle pool, Johnson drew a less-than-perfect diagram in the dirt. "Now… Let's see, SMS Skull Four will drop in through the cruiser's hull, right about here. The sergeant scribbled an explosion on the oval that was supposed to be the _Truth and Reconciliation_. "Now..." he continued, drawing a slightly more detailed but no less detracting from my opinion of his artistic skills diagram of the cruiser, this time from the side.

"They will land at the bottom section of the minor bridge at the back of the cruiser, where the main security systems are. Our latest reports on the CSS-Class tell us the bridge is constructed out of four levels, each with a central control computer. All four will have to be destroyed either by gunfire or explosives. After the computers are down, Skull can bypass the damaged security system to get to the final main ship security control centre, which takes care of all doors and lifts inside the ship." Johnson drew a rough circle at the front of the room. "Once that is down, SMS is to head to the bottom Covenant hangar and escape using the Banshees stationed there, and the Master Chief's group will come in get the captain and standby for extraction via Foehammer. I trust that you all know how to fly Banshees, Skull?"

"More or less." replied Cutter. All SMS employees had to be certified from a range of Covenant machinery salvaged after first contact, and Skull squads were competent in driving Ghosts, Banshees, Phantoms and Wraiths. "I have a question." said Serena.

"What is it, miss?" asked Johnson lightly, turning away from us and lighting a fresh cigar. "How are we going to 'drop in'?" she replied, tilting her head.

"Eh, with one of these." Johnson waved dismissively at an Elephant. Eight Marines were busy hauling a SOEIV onto a rack with three already on it. "These Elephants will be carried by our Albatross just outside the Covenant radar range, and they will immediately launch you _friggin' three kilometres over the ground and into the cruiser._"

"…They look dangerous." Cutter observed.

"Damn right they are, marine. Now get in the Albatross." Johnson barked, then turned and yelled at the rest of the soldiers. "What are you standing there for? Move it! Get to the Pelican!"

"That man is scary." said Saotome flatly as we wedged ourselves tightly into the giant Albatross transport aircraft. Twenty technicians drove two Elephants under the Albatross, then attached a powerful electromagnet to the tops of each massive vehicle, and the aircraft lifted off, eight turbojets swivelling backwards and lifting us slowly into the air.

"This is Tower to Hammerhead flight, we read you at angles three, heading is three-forty-five, press blue-six to transfer to your dedicated controller."

"Hammerhead Flight copies, pressing blue-six now." There was a squeal of static, then a new voice began to speak. "This is Hammerhead controller to Hammerhead Flight, continue due east and descent to angels two, I am reading six contacts coming your way."

"Hammerhead flight copies." The massive dropship screamed low over the forests, gradually giving way to a beautiful lake sparkling in the evening light. The pilots dropped the altitude even further as six Banshees flying in formation whirred overhead, paying no attention to us and continuing on their way.

The floor tilted as we entered the mountains, flying in between the snowy white caps of the rock. "Hammerhead flight, change course now bearing zero-fiver-six. You will be painted in thirty seconds."

"Roger. Hammerhead flight changing course bearing zero-fiver-six. We are on course and ready to deploy."

"Affirmative, deploy in ten seconds."

"Alright Skull Four, this is it! Get ready to jump!"

The lights in the cabin pulsed green, giving us the all clear. Cutter went first followed a second after by the rest of the squad. Our bodies hurtled towards the sandy floor, as did the two Elephants carried by the dropship. I counted to three, pulled the parachute cords and jolted to a slowing descent. The Elephant's tumbled past us, deploying their massive grey UNSC parachutes and landing lightly on the desert with a puff of yellow-orange sand.

We hit the ground a second later, and were immediately ushered into the waiting Elephants by the technicians on board. "Quick, let's go through the details, we're supposed to launch in three minutes, so I'll keep this brief." said a nervous blond-haired man. "Each of you are going to get in a pod, strap in and use the thrusters to stay on course until you hit the cruiser. By hit I mean make impact with going at terminal velocity."

"Terminal velocity… Wait, how powerful are those things?" I asked, pointing at the multi-racked launching mechanism on the Elephant. "They're for Shiva IBCM warheads." the blonde-haired man said flatly. "…Ah." In a matter of seconds I was firmly strapped into the SOEIV, along with Morales, Harris and Serena. Cutter, Grafton and Saotome were in the second Elephant ready to launch.

"Is this a good idea?" I asked for the fourth time on the radio.

"Only way in." the blonde-haired guy said, chuckling quietly as he flipped switches on the panel he was working on. The launchers swivelled right and pointed up into the sky as the man typed in co-ordinates. "Angle is twenty-seven point two eight… all set. Disconnect the power cables and engage first stage initiators. Launch in T minus one minute."

Four men released the huge rubber tubes connected to the launch assembly, quickly retracting them thanks to a large pulley system and retreating down the stairs. There was a jolt as the initiators fired, pushing the main drivers used to eject us out of the launch rigs to a perfect speed.

"Remember; keep one hand on the throttle, one hand on the stick. Good luck. Launching in T minus five." reminded the controller. "I got it." Cutter replied, and the mechanism fired. First came a massive kick in the pants as the mass driver finally built up enough energy and fired us straight out of the massive launch tubes. I was crushed into the seat as G-force multiplied. The pod's engines activated, adding another two Gs into the mash.

We were flying at least half a kilometre above ground, still ascending as the little turbojet struggled then died. "Serena, give me a sitrep." grunted Cutter, straining his voice against the G-force.

"We're at the tip of our apogee now. This is the hard bit." Serena answered, appearing on the right screen of the SOEIV. "Adjust bearing to zero-niner-zero, on my mark….Mark!" commanded Cutter. I jammed the thrusters online, pulled back on the throttles and held on as the small explosives detonated, sending me careening in the direction of the _Truth and Reconciliation_.

"This is Echo 4-19 to SMS Skull, you there? I'm reading you at vector zero-six, coming in to LZ hot and at 300, request a confirm?"

"Hold on, Echo 4-19." there was a pause as Serena double-checked our stats, then replied, "Confirmed on this end, you're clear to begin your approach."

"Roger that, SMS Skull team, we'll be touching down in thirty minutes." answered the friendly pilot, signing out from the airwaves. I could now see the cruiser, highlighted perfectly by the Covenant plasma torches aimed at it. We ballooned over the cliff, missing the edge by mere metres, then smashed into the port hull of the _Truth and Reconciliation_. My head rattled as the armour-piercing tip of the SOEIV broke through the three-metre thick metal wall and entered the bridge.

The metal pods clattered end over end across the dimly lit purple chamber, scattering the various Covenant working on the machinery there. "SMS Skull Team, move!" commanded Cutter, blowing out the bolts on his pod and sending them into the gold-armoured Elite in front of him. The body crumpled like paper, skittering away on the floor.

Harris was the next to engage, slipping out of his pod and opening up with the assault rifle, sending other aliens diving for cover. I jammed furiously on my escape button-it wouldn't work because the bolts had died. "Shit! I'm trapped!" I yelled.

"Harris, cover me! Hold on, Five, I'll get you out!" yelled Grafton, running over and firing shots into the door-frame. Plasma fire melted into my pod as the Elites regained their composure and attacked, but then Harris laid down an entire magazine's worth of M118 armour-piercing bullets their way, sending them ducking behind their controls as sparks blew out from the electronics.

I winced as needler rounds flashed towards the pod, missing Grafton by centimetres and cracked the glass. Grafton fired the last shot into the final bolt, and the door exploded outwards. Grafton stepped aside with a satirical bow as I grasped the handles of the MA5B and DMR and heaved myself out, landing lightly on the hard purple metal floor of the ship.

The bridge was a roughly circular shape, with a massive curved screen at the front of the chamber. Screens and holographic displays mounted on machinery filled the room in neat rows, with the main controllers at the back of the room. That was our objective. The security controllers were at the back on the multi-storey structure. The intelligence gathered by Cortana read that all four of the computers were in action guarding the gravity lifts to the next computer and eventually the security system's main CPU with a sliding door and a light bridge.

The first targets leapt into the scope of my DMR. I steadied the sights, putting the reticule in front of their heads and squeezing off a series of rounds. The Elite Majors' shields flickered and died as the rounds smashed into its shields, then Serena finished the trio of red-armoured reptiles off with several rounds from the MA5B in controlled bursts.

Panels and lights blew out as bullets were traded across the chamber. I made sure to keep my head down and keep advancing as the projectiles whistled or hissed overhead. "Fan out and advance on the tower! Take out any Covenant you see." directed Cutter, somewhere to my right amidst the maze of flickering electronics.

This was perhaps the most annoying mission I had been on. It wasn't too dangerous, because as long as you kept your head down and looking around you, you were relatively same from the twenty or so Jackals and Elites who had retreated to the tower and armed themselves with some Covenant medium-range precision weaponry. That was the one thing that stopped this from being almost like a cakewalk, because as soon as I stuck my head out from within the maze, the regular shots that the Covenant rained on me suddenly all converged at my head, forcing me to keep low and wind my way through the maze of panels.

A Minor leaped out from a side passage as I ran past, tackling me and sending my body to the floor. I kicked the blue-armoured alien away and reached out for the MA5, which had gone skittering on the floor to rest next to the supports of a floor-mounted projector. The Elite grasped my leg and pulled me in, snarling viciously. I rolled to the side as his claws flashed towards my face, scraping against my armour.

I swung both my legs into the Elite's knees, knocking him over and giving me the upper hand. I tried to pin him down with one hand, drawing my combat knife and preparing the gut him. Another Elite attacked me from behind, barking an order to its charges. I swore. This one was an Ultra. I spun round, stabbing the small serrated steel-tungsten of my knife into his chest, but not killing him as I had wanted.

Nevertheless, the Elite stumbled backward, wrenching the blade out of its body with a spurt of blood and dropping me to the floor. More Elites appeared around me, closing in for the kill and deploying their white-blue energy swords. I grasped the MA5B and pointed it at the Ultra. I had barely squeezed off four rounds when a Major attacked me from me hind, forcing me to stop my attack and spin to parry the swipe of his energy sword.

Sparks flew as pure plasma met steel frame. I kicked the Elite into a mass of electronics, turning to face another attacker as electricity flew. I had turned too slow. The Ultra lunged at me, sword in hand and ready to kill. I jumped backwards, tripping over the body of a dead alien and dropping to the metal floor.

The Ultra was on me in an instant, starting his attack. Harris smashed the Elite out of the way with the butt of his assault rifle like he was hitting a baseball with a bat. Grafton leaped over me, assault rifle blazing away at the nine Elites standing stunned at the surprise entry of my comrades. The aliens melted away, disappearing into the forest of glowing holo-displays. As Harris, Saotome and Grafton chased after the retreating force, Serena and Cutter helped me up.

"You hurt?" the girl asked as Cutter slid me the gun, careful to keep below the holo-displays. I grabbed the weapon off the floor and nodded. "One to Two, you done with them?" asked Cutter.

"Just about." answered Grafton. There was a burst of fire, then he added, "Done now."

"Alright. Move towards the tower. Don't let anything stop you." Cutter signed off, then nodded at me and sprinted off towards our objective, the rest of the squad following a second later. Covenant fire whizzed around us as we abandoned cover in favour of speed. I followed Cutter as we jumped up, moving across the holo-displays. Elites clutched up at us, threatening to drag as us, but their efforts were only met with a sharp kick to the face or the butt of our weapons.

Cutter swung his MA5 left and right, knocking aside the aliens like they were only minor problems, clearing the way for me and Serena. I unslung the DMR as I ran, pressing my face into the scope and aiming as best as I could while I sprang from each piece of machinery. As soon as the circle of the reticule passed into the face of a Jackal aiming a strange purple rifle, I fired, sending the round just below the bird's neck.

As the Covenant slumped to the floor, I changed targets, aiming at the plasma batteries behind the Elites and Jackals desperately trying to hold us back. Green light flashed at the tower, sending streams of dangerous streaks into the air, aiming at the squad. I curled over a brace aimed at me, firing as I went. The first three shots smacked an Elite in the arm or hit the wall behind the batteries, but the next two were right on target.

The first bullet smashed into the delicate glass shield keeping the plasma locked inside, cracking it and the next one shattered it completely, the blue energy erupting out and decimating the snipers standing there. Harris reached the end of the holo-displays first, twisting around to meet the attacking Elites from the front. Grafton slid into position, behind Harris. "Got your six!" he shouted, racking the M90 and adopting a firing position from the hip.

"Five! Behind you!" warned Saotome. I spun round, extending my arm so that the metal body of the DMR collided with whatever it was that was trying to attack me. The stealth Elite recoiled backwards, showing its neck nicely and giving me enough time to drop the gun, grab the combat knife and plunge it through his shields into the unprotected neck. I kicked the reptile away, shaking the blood off the shiny stainless steel-tungsten blade.

"Morales! Get up there, destroy the controller! Five, Seven, get up there with him!"

"Understood!" The three of us ran into the blue glow of the gravity lift, feeling the unnatural rush as the powerful machinery kicked into action, pulling us up into the first storey. The blue stream of light ended at the first floor, marked by a square with the left side filled in a light blue. The Elites up top had been prepared for us, wielding their plasma rifles in one hand and preparing plasma grenades with the other but were shocked when Serena, manning the controls for the lifts on the wall, suddenly reversed the flow, pulling us back down as the blue glowing grenades swished through the air, exploding with a weird splashing noise and filling the air with the smell of ozone, which had oozed its way through my helmet filters.

The girl quickly reset the lifts, this time dumping us onto the floor as the Elites hurriedly began firing. Morales acted quickly, swiping the safety cap off the launch button of the SPNKR as the firing handle telescoped out of storage, revealing the bright green 'shoot' printed onto the trigger. The big ODST dropped to one knee, levelling the launcher at the first controller as his armour took the brunt of the fire. The Elites realised what was coming and dove out of the way as the end of the barrel steadied and Morales jabbed down on the button.

The big, slow-moving missile popped out of the light-blue barrel as the recoil-powered mechanism fired into action, rotating the next launcher into position. I hit the deck as the HEAT warhead made contact, the tungsten-tipped cap pushing through the two-inch thick Covenant metal and erupting in white, orange and yellow flower of fire and plasma. As soon as the security controller ceased working, the aperture door above us clicked and hummed open, allowing access to the second floor for technicians as the second controller kicked into action, taking command of the electronic systems scattered around the starship.

"First one's down! Move up!" commanded Cutter. Morales hurriedly packed up and retreated to the gravity lift, and we followed a second later, Grafton stepping once again into the blue gravity stream first. We landed in the second floor. This one was completely devoid of life. "Don't waste the rockets." commanded Grafton, instead putting the remainder of his half-full magazine into the brightly lit computer. Again the system failed, and the next computer activated. This time, a pair of Stealth Elites materialised behind Saotome. Before I had time to shout a warning, one had her by the neck, pressed against his body, and the next one was pinning Morales and Grafton down behind a case of some kind with a flurry of plasma from its weapon.

I stood in the middle of it all, unsure of which one to help first. Grafton and Morale's Elite's plasma rifle overheated with a sizzle, and I sprang to Saotome's aid, attacking the Elite and elbowing it in the face. The reptile snorted, threw the Japanese girl aside and turned to face me. I flicked the combat knife I had in my hands into its face, drawing blood as the blade scored its cheek. The reptile blinked in surprise, enough time for me to rush forward and kick him hard in the neck.

The Elite reared backwards in pain, and I stole a concerned glance at Saotome- she was up on her hands and knees and reaching for the nodachi. A quick explosion behind me told me Morales had secured the third objective, and I danced forward, flipping the DMR's butt up and down in a flurry of attacks to the Elite's chest and neck. I knew I could not best him in a show of strength, now that I was missing my combat knife, but if I could keep up the attacks to keep him off his feet then maybe- The double-edged sword sliced cleanly through the Elite's back, nearly getting me in the eye as Saotome reached the end of her reach and withdrew, sending he Elite to the floor, purple blood beginning to pool.

Wordlessly, we stepped into the gravity lift again as red lights began to flash, indicating this was the last failsafe before the security system's protection was completely destroyed, leaving the core vulnerable to hacking. The lift dropped us in front of the entire bridge crew. The fourth floor dwarfed the others, being more than three times in size and covered with more control panels and Covenant blather. Elites, Jackals and Grunts all fired at us, filling the air with their lethal plasma. We all scattered, diving behind the control panels as burn marks appeared all over the bridge.

I popped up and returned fire, bowling over a squad of Grunts firing vainly at Saotome, while Grafton broadcasted, "One! You there?"

"What is it, Grafton?"

"We're gonna need some help in securing this bridge, I'm sending you live feed from my VISR, I'm showing more than sixty Elite hostiles, more Jackals and Grunts than you can count."

"Got it. We're coming up. Harris! Serena! Move out! Just hold on for a little longer!" A plasma grenade arced over my head, landing on the floor beside me. I dove away, but the blast threw me up into the air, dropping my DMR and MA5. I slammed into the ground and rolled upright, looking around for my guns. I found them, lying close together and waiting to be used, and began a dive, but a sharp-eyed Elite fired his plasma rifle into them, mangling the two guns' barrels.

"Shit!" I rolled away as the Ultra drew an energy blade and lunged forward. "Five!"

"What?" I asked, parrying the weapon as the Elite tried again. "Catch!" roared Grafton, throwing me his switchblade. I caught the black plasta-steel handle and deployed the wickedly sharp blade with a tap of the button on its grip. That, however, opened up a window for the Elite to strike through. I jumped backwards and blocked the sword with the combat knife. Sparks flew as the blade blackened.

I withdrew suddenly, catching the Elite by surprise, and as it toppled over, I swished the switchblade under its stomach, but the lizard, obviously experienced, spun out of my reach, and the blade met air. I whirled round, attempting to sink the knife into the side of its head, but instead my knife grated against a smaller dagger he had deployed from his arm.

I retaliated quickly, flicking the blade and twisting it in between the two prongs of the energy swords and pinning it into place, while keeping the energy dagger back with the combat knife. I swung my knee into the armoured chest of the Elite as hard as I could, knocking it backward with a dry wheeze. Quickly, I spun the combat knife around in my hand and threw it through his shields into his chest.

As the Ultra toppled to the floor, I was already parrying another blow from a Major. A burst of automatic fire shredded the red-armoured lizard's shields, and the Major wisely retreated as Cutter lowered the assault rifle. "Good to see you, Five." he nodded, then dropped into a firing position and opened up. "Take the DMR." said Grafton from across the roof, sliding it across the floor into my arms.

I nodded in thanks, then shouldered the weapon and aimed down the sights. "Morales! Finish loading?" asked Cutter.

"Almost…. Okay!" replied the man as he clamped the loading mechanism over the last set of rockets. "Clear the way for him!" shouted the captain, firing down the corridor at the Jackals. The bullets ping harmlessly off their defensive shields, but the Morales fired a single rocket straight down the hallway, sending Jackals flying. "Last rocket!" he yelled.

"Make it count!" replied Grafton.

"Roger!" Morales brought the last barrel of the weapon down, aimed carefully and let rip, throwing the rocket launcher away as the missile hit the final controller, obliterating the electronic codes and forcing the core itself to come online, utilising its massive electronic authority to continue to control the ship's onboard security systems.

"Get to the core!" shouted Cutter as the computer's lights flickered online.

"Eh… No can do, Cutter." replied Morales, pointing ahead. The computer sat nestled in a small alcove just a few metres away from the edge of the control centre. "What the hell... How do we even get to that thing?" asked Harris incredulously. "Hold on... I'm hacking into the database now... There's something the Covenant don't want us to look at. Five layer encryption password. Uh, okay, I'm through. There's two options, the pad's translating them now... Okay! I've got extend light-bridge and retract! I'm selecting extend!" shouted Serena.

The floor under us rumbled as a single large generator kicked into action, thrumming out a blue-white slab of what seemed like pure light. "We walk on that?" I said.

"Get to the computer!" yelled Cutter, waving us forward. The light-bridge was on the third floor. We were on the fourth, smashing through the transparent glass panels and landing on the bridge. It felt odd to suddenly thunk onto something as hard as rock when you knew all that was between you and a two-storey drop was some light. Serena was already on her feet, dashing towards the computer and dodging the plasma fire that rained down on us.

"Go, go! Cover Serena!" shouted Cutter, waving us onward. I spun round and crouching into a firing position, emptying the DMR's magazines again and again into the Elites and Jackals that poked their guns out to fire on us. We were in a terrible situation- the light-bridge offered no cover whatsoever, and and the only thing we could do was return fire as Serena quickly rigged up a full hacking system into the security core and began her task, fingers flying over her touch-screen as she grappled virtually with the Covenant AI.

Covenant fire spanged or hissed into my armour, producing dents and burn marks on the dark-grey armour. "I'm through its security layer now. I'm going to us a DOS attack." muttered Serena, fingers flying away. "Hurry!" I shouted, dropping a burning, empty magazine and clicking my second last one into place. "Okay! I'm through! Disabling security systems... They're down! We're bugging out!"

I packed up straight away, standing up and sprinting down the bridge to the fourth floor waiting for us. I held off a squad of Grunts with the rifle as the rest of the squad charged past, then jumped into the gravity lift along with them as the Covenant vainly returned fire. "Through this way, take a left, and we'll be in the hangar." pointed Serena, as the doors suddenly turned white because of the recent damage to the security system.

We dashed through the corridors, blowing through Covenant as we rushed downhill, directed by the pad's downloaded map. Eventually, we barged through the doors and emerged on a side of a bustling Covenant hangar. There were four 'docks' for Spirit transports, three of which were occupied. The Banshees sat in neat rows of four on the purple metal floor of the hangar, undergoing a cleaning by some Grunts while Elites on guard marched about the higher levels.

Two seconds after we had sneaked out, an alarm wailed, and Elites reached for their weapons. "What's happening?" asked Saotome as the Elites began looking feverishly across the room. "I've just intercepted a transmission-translating... Shit. The Elites in the Bridge just issued a ship-wise alert- we're gonna have to fight our way out." replied Serena as a Minor noticed us and raised its weapon.

I returned fire with the DMR's last six rounds, sending the blue-armoured creature to the floor in a pool of blood. "Out of bullets! I called, throwing the gun away and unsheathing the combat knife. "Get down to the bottom level while the Covenant are picking up their guns!" shouted Grafton, waving us over to the ramps for Covenant supplies. We dashed down them, all of the squad but me firing on the Grunts as they dashed for their guns.

Elites materialised behind us, ready to attack. I twisted behind me, grasped the first Elite's wrist and broke it in a brutal twist. As the Elite recoiled, I snatched his gun out of his hands and turned it on him, pressing down on the trigger and watching the plasma rifle's bright blue bolts melt into his shields, their mild EMP effects quickly diminishing the energy barrier around him. As soon as I saw the bright flicker as the shields died, I stepped forward, swinging the gun up and over my head in a uppercut that broke the Elite's neck.

Before the body had hit the floor, I felt hot armour as plasma erupted from the Major commander's rifles. I spun, ducking as I did so to minimise the damage as the plasma fizzled through the air, then knocked his gun to the floor with a swipe of mine. Unperturbed, the Elite roared and rushed forward, extending its three-fingered palm and going for my helmet, but I thrust the plasma rifle in front of me, intercepting the arm in mid-strike.

My arm jolted unsteadily, but it held for a single second, enough for me to plunge my knife into the Elite's lower chest and drag upwards in a long slash. Purple blood exploded out as I withdrew and ran after the squad, which had already dispatched their attackers with ease and were now close to boarding their Banshees. I quickly caught up as Hunters barged through a cargo door, cannons charged and at the ready. Banshees were sent sailing as the cannons cleaved great green explosions raked the floors.

"Quickly, go, go, go!" shouted Cutter, ushering us into a row of Banshees. I stopped in front of the last one, glancing nervously at the giant Covenant aliens as the ran towards us. The cockpit beckoned, and I released the locks and lifted the hinged door open. Inside was a blue HUD, a holographic display showing live visual feed superimposed behind a set of aiming reticles, some touch-screen controls and a small joystick.

I dove in head-first, jabbed the ignition, watched the engines spin up, and pressed the seal hatch button, memorised through a year of learning the fly the contraption. Two circles flickered in through the HUD, filling up as the engines spun up to full power, then pulsed blue as the anti-gravity systems engaged, pushing the Banshee up and off the ground. I glanced around, the display following me around, and saw Cutter and the squad lift of the ground in unison, kicking up some dust from their take-off. As soon as Cutter pushed forward and exited the hangar, the rest of the squad followed his lead, sliding fingers on the throttle-controls. The Banshee leapt forward, shuddering from the near misses the fuel-rod cannons gave us.

As soon as we cleared the hangar, Serena made a broadcast. "SMS Skull Four to Echo 4-19. Mission successful, clear to begin final approach. Good hunting, SMS Skull out."


	23. Control

_Ohai people. Yeah, it's been a while, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment,so I can't keep my promise of faster updates. :( Anyway, time to explain. Some friends at school have asked me to help them to do a actual, proper, non-school frame-by-frame flash animation, and I'm getting a Wacom tablet too, so I'll be busy animating and drawing away for the next few months, and writing in between in the spare time I have between those and my ESSA exams. _

I shifted my weight to compensate for the slight jostle the Pelican made as it whooshed around the blazing beach, lined with UNSC Marines and Covenant aliens. The scope of my new bolt-action SRS-99-C modified to suit my standards, flashed over Elites and Grunts alike. The stock of the rifle rested against the wooden box that allowed me to fire out the small firing slit on the newly acquired DTC-77-SMS. Painted jet black,white and blue in SMS livery, the Pelican carried standard SMS modifications to increase lethality in air-to-air and air-to-ground combat. Cutter was behind the controls, banking hard left to keep our weapons to bear.

SMS Class-4 Pelican Support Gunships were not usually deploying troops, but instead providing a continuous, hard-hitting support system from the air. With this in mind, the SMS engineers had installed a powerful fighter-type Pulse-Doppler radar system in the nose, capable of supporting a next generation combat and support suite, more than six three-rail weapon pylons under the stubby wings, capable of carrying any weapon in the UNSC arsenal except for specialist combat weapons due to the universal mounting platform integrated into it, and was capable of carrying eight fully armed soldiers firing out of gun-slits of the fuselage.

When the Master Chief returned to Firebase Beta with captain Keyes, he had personally briefed the entire base population on what he had learned from the Covenant during his stay in their brig. Apparently Halo, was a weapon, one of unimaginable power. Knowing this, he would attempt to use Halo against the Covenant, to assume control before they did and wipe the alien races clean off the Milky Way with this Halo. To find the control centre of this ring, they had to first find the 'Cartographer', a map system of Halo. Locating it was easy enough, but it turned out that the Covenant was already there, and were setting up a forward base in the shelter of the building.

In that case, then we would storm it and find the Cartographer. The operation would take place in three days. In the training before it, I trained myself in 'speed-sniping', the users called it, essentially a combination of reflexes and reloading training, only applicable with mounted, bolt-action rifles. What somebody had to do was prepare shells in home-made tubes which would fit nicely in between one's knuckles, and load them into a sniper-rifle shell canister. Each bullet would then be pushed semi-firmly into each tube, filling up the canister.

Then, you would fit three shells in between the fingers of the reloading hand, while keeping your thumb free. After each shot, the thumb pushed back the bolt, and the bullet between the fingers was pushed in, completing the reload in scarcely a second. A two second pause followed three shots as you jabbed down into the canister for a new set of three bullets.

"Keep pouring it on!" encouraged Sergeant Johnson as Cutter chipped away at the Covenant position with the dual-linked chin-mounted 70mm cannons, sending the Elites and Grunts who had dared to come out of cover scurrying back behind the dull grey of the alien facility the Marines were assaulting. The SRS-99-C Custom barked as the blue ring of the reticle flashed past a red-armoured Major's head, which spurted blood as the shell smashed through. By then, my thumb had pulled the spring-loaded catch back, sending the ejected bullet casing spinning out, and I pressed the next shell into place, releasing the catch with a snick and scanning the ground for my next targets.

The squad were only shooting targets of opportunity, such as red-armoured Majors and Minors commanding their squads of Grunts. As each leader fell, the squads milled about in confusion, making easy targets for the Marines charging up from below. "We've got Covenant armour moving up from the side of that mountain, SMS Skull Team, take them out!"

"Roger. Moving to engage." Cutter crackled off the air, and banked us towards the line of bloated hovering tanks. Plasma fire hissed off the black armour of the Pelican as the turrets opened up. I peered forward through the firing slit as Cutter prepared the four rocket pods mounted on the pylons for firing. I watched as Cutter called the shot, saying clearly into the mike, "SMS Skull Four, beginning full rocket fire." The Pelican shuddered, belching black smoke from the four pods amidst brief yellow flashes of fire as the rockets lighted off, arching out from the pods in a rain of destruction, hammering the tanks with the force of the blasts.

Cutter pulled up, soaring high over the battlefield, and returned to the landing zone, where the Marines were stamping out any Covenant resistance left. "Captain, what's our orders?" asked Cutter, rapping the side of the cockpit window absent-mindedly. "The Master Chief just went inside the facility. Stand-by for further orders." crackled Keyes through the radio. "Roger that, SMS Skull Four standing by."

I had scarcely gotten out and given my legs a stretch before the radio crackled to life. "Have you found the map room yet?" asked Keyes impatiently.

"Negative Captain. The Covenant have locked the door and we don't have enough firepower to get through."

"I see." the captain sighed wearily. "All forces, we have to find that map room. Chief, find a security override for that door."

"I'm reading a facility over the north side of the island, it appears to be a security facility. We'll go take a look over there." replied Cortana.

"Good, good. Master Chief, head towards the facility. The other UNSC forces, set up defences, we're putting up a forward camp. I'll scramble Pelicans with the gear shortly. SMS, I want you to conduct a CAP around the island, keep home plate advised of bandits."

"Affirmative, Keyes. SMS, mount up!" shouted Cutter, disappearing into the hold on the Pelican and into the cockpit.

I scrambled in, snapping the rifle into its firing slits and sitting down on the metal floor next to it as the others drifted aboard. Cutter spun up the four massive P&W 114-0 turbojets, rotating them downwards and pushing the big dropship unsteadily off the ground. We shuddered to a safe altitude, then Cutter engaged forward thrust, and we screamed around the island, radar and radio blaring.

"Got anything on radar, Skull?" asked Keyes.

"Nothing, home plate." We flew circles around the island for more than an hour, when the radio blared. "This is the Master Chief, I've got the location pinpointed and stored, requesting an extraction- I'm coming out."

"Affirmative, Master Chief, Echo 4-19 is inbound."

"Warning, warning! Inbound contacts at bearing zero-niner-zero, angels twenty, diving in on you, evade, evade!, Echo 4-19, evade! SMS Skull Four, move in to engage! Do not let the bandits get to Echo 4-19!"

"Affirmative, we're going in!" shouted Cutter, slamming the throttles of the SMS Gunship to full Zone Five afterburners, and rolling left and screaming for earth. I clicked the safety belts on my waist into position, plying on my stomach and trying not to be sick as Cutter increased the aggressiveness of the turn. "They're all over me! I can't shake them for long!" shouted Foehammer urgently. "Hold on, we're closing in on you, replied Cutter, levelling out and roaring over the island.

Banshees appeared on the radar linked to my VISR, and I pulled the safety off the SRS-99.

The Pelican screamed inbetween the two forces, absorbing the plasma fire from the Banshees. Foehammer raced away, while the Covenant aircraft turned their attention to us. The twenty or so Banshees roared forward, to be surprised when Cutter, flung the giant air-brake on the top of jet wide open, slowing us dramatically and at the same time pushing the stick all the way forward so that the Pelican suddenly dropped my a stone. My stomach rose as we plummeted beneath the Banshees, then was squashed back down as Cutter retracted the big sheet of metal and re-engaged the engines, setting himself up for a perfect missile launch.

The gunship carried a total of four Sidewinder-J II heat-seeking missiles below the middle pylon, and I heard the distinctive growl of the warheads topping each other until they made a single roar , barely noticeable from the troop bay, but clear in the cockpit. At the same time, the Pelican datalink from my helmet closed six 'coffin' missile lock-on symbols over six of the triangles in front of us.

"Skull, good lock, good lock, Fox! Fox!" announced Cutter, indicating the six missiles' launch. The white streaks of smoke lanced out towards the selected Banshees, which broke hard in all directions, splitting up and doubling back towards the Pelican. I fired twice as a purple shape screamed by the firing slit, the first shot going wide and lancing into the clear blue skies, the second shell smashing into its left anti-gravity drive, causing the Banshee to veer uncontrollably in a dive to the left.

The dropship shook as it took a fuel-rod cannon to the armoured right flank, throwing us all off balance. Grafton opened fire on the offending aircraft with a mounted LAAG, tearing the Banshee to shreds. The next target entered my line of fire, and I sent it scurrying with a shot into its rudders. The game of cat and mouse continued, with the Banshees moping about just outside the range of our weapons, sometimes darting in and firing off a few shots before pulling up and away from Grafton's reply from the LAAG.

"Echo 4-19 to home plate, I've got a visual on the Master Chief, going in for extraction."

"Roger that, SMS, just hold them off for a while longer." answered Keyes.

"Affirmative, Captain." answered Cutter, beginning a gentle descent towards the island as Serena blew another Banshee out of they sky, flipping it end over end as raw plasma fuel exploded from its wing root. The rest decided they had enough, and one by one, peeled off and screamed away.

"This is Echo 4-19, I have the Master Chief, patching through a live voice-feed from Cortana."

"Keyes, can you hear me?" asked the AI.

"Strength Five, Cortana. Go ahead."

"We've activated the Cartographer. I've got a reading, but it seems like the co-ordinates are underground."

"Damn. I don't think we have any mining-"

"I'm not done yet, captain. I've also got a second set of co-ordinates here, the entrance to a vast underground chamber, big enough to eventually fit six Pelicans side by side. Sending you the co-ordinates now, I recommend moving all available units to the objective in order to secure it."

"Affirmative, Cortana." confirmed Keyes, "Alright. Make your way down to the chamber and find that command centre. I'll send units down as soon as I get transport arranged. SMS, you're going down there too."

"Hold on, Keyes, I need to run an inventory." objected Cutter. The radio crackled offline, then Cutter asked, "How much ammunition do we have left?"

"I've got forty rounds left for the SRS." I said. Serena had thirty shells in her belt, Harris and the rest all carried full loads for their weapons on account of having manned LAAGs in the Pelican. "Good. We're going in, Keyes." said Cutter calmly over the radio, and pulled us down and over the middle of the island, where there was a massive facility, sprawled out on the flat grasslands. In the middle of the cluster of buildings was a massive hexagon-shaped, drain-like opening, complete with the edges of a sliding door.

"Alright, we're going under." breathed Cutter, levelling us and dropping us slowly into the gaping hole. Darkness enveloped the black DTC-77, broken only by a row of blue lights glowing dimly on each side, and Cutter slowed us further, increasing thrust to the engines so we descended at a crawling pace. However, after a while, true to Cortana's description, the excruciatingly narrow chamber widened, until it was over sixty metres across, broken by the occasional Forerunner structure protruding form the sides, bathing us in a light blue, gentle light from its deserted chambers.

A friendly blip appeared on the SMS Pelican's radar, and it quickly morphed into Echo 4-19, who soared up past us, the pilot giving us a friendly wing-wag as she pulled up. Cutter threaded his way slowly down through the increasingly dense forest of thin bridges and narrow chambers that criss-crossed the gap. A red blip suddenly flashed into view on my data-linked scope. My heart nearly tore itself from its chest as a Spirit ominously ascended out from below, passing us without a sound.

I allowed myself to relax a tiny fraction, then peered downwards as Cutter held his position, running as quietly as he could. Below us, a film of mist obscured whatever was below us, but I could definitely make out the purple glow of Covenant lights. Cutter set us to the most secure channel on the UNSC radiowaves, then contacted Cortana. "Cortana, what are our objectives?"

"I'll set up a beacon." replied the AI, and promptly, a blue diamond shimmered into view, below us.

"Uh, we may have a problem, Cortana."muttered Cutter nervously. "There's a Covenant base in front of our objective point."

"Hold on. I'm conducting a scan... Confirmed, SMS Skull. However, your SMS grade Pelican has unique RAM paint applied, plus additional stealth measures. It would be highly unlikely that you'll be spiked. In fact, you're well within range of their radars, and their scans are just washing over your ship."

"What about those searchlights?" asked Cutter, referring to the ten or so bright lances of lights that swept the base, slashing through the blue mist, and highlighting the dull grey Forerunner metal structures black as the searchlights passed over them. "You can take them out with you snipers. Do you have silencers?"

"Yes." I answered, producing two black tubes from my pocket and tossing one to Serena, attaching the other one to the end of my rifle. "Good, but remember, as soon as you take down one, they're gonna be on the alert once they find out it was a sniper. Try and evade rather than shoot, and get down to the bottom floor. There should be a main entrance. Foehammer had to stop at the twenty-third level because of the Covenant radar, so you should get there before us. Try and divert their attention somewhere else if you can."

"Alright. Will do." Cutter slid the idling engines back from a hover and once again into a descent, dropping further into the tunnel.

I screwed the silencer onto the end of the gun, wincing as the metal made strange squeaking noises. Cutter dropped past the first searchlight without a problem, but the Grunts manning the lights noticed our jet and squawked in surprised. Without a word, Serena fired, her two rounds snapping the Grunts head over heels. Cutter quickly dropped us lower, passing a manned Shade turret. I quickly neutralised the Elite manning the turret as he swung towards us, then scanned the area below us for any more threats as Cutter pushed onwards. Serena's rifle clicked as it fired twice, taking out whatever target was on her side of the Pelican.

I let out a long, shuddering breath as I fired again, hitting an Elite grasping the controls of a searchlight, creating a window for Cutter to go through as the beam of light stopped. The next target swam into focus, and I fired again. The shot missed the Grunt by centimetres. As the round made a quick incision in the wall, the tiny alien swung the light towards us, nearly blinding me with the intensity of the light before I managed to hit it.

It was too late. More and more lights highlighted the sleek Pelican's dark shape against the dull grey of the buildings spanning the gap. "Shit!" I shouted, as Banshees began to spin up and launch, while Shades whirred towards us and opened fire with their powerful plasma weaponry. Cutter slammed the nose over, diving straight down as the first of the eerie purple energy hissed overhead. "Nowhere to go, it's time to run." the leader said calmly, slamming us to zone five afterburners and screaming down.

Buildings, arches and Covenant aircraft whizzed past as Cutter threw us left and right to dodge the plasma cannons raining hell down on us. The LAAGs opened up, stitching their lines of bullets in sweeping waves as the Banshees closed in. I winced as one crunched into a bridge, breaking through the underside with a brutal crack and a rain of metal and concrete. The Pelican shuddered as Cutter pushed the engines as fast as they could go, screaming through the network of thin bridges and breaking through the last floor of the base, emerging into a vast emptiness broken only by a single rod coming down from the base, probably a lift of some sort. That was confirmed when I saw a platform jam-packed with Elites and Grunts rocketing down towards us.

"Look out! Banshees, up high!" shouted Morales.

"Shit!" Cutter swerved wildly as the fuel-rod cannon shots blossomed all over the fuselage, knocking me off the wooden perch I crouched on and sending me into Saotome. I watched the sniper fell away, sling across the floor as a lucky spray of blue plasma hissed into the rear left engine, melting the blades and jamming them, resulting in a fatal explosion when Cutter pushed the throttles to full military and tried to pull away.

The Pelican slewed drastically, smoke billowing from its destroyed engine, sending all of us sliding across the hard steel floor, weapons abandoned in the chaos. "I can't keep her afloat... Brace for impact!" shouted Cutter, opening the cockpit doors. We all pressed our bodies against the outer wall of the cockpit as the features outside began to blur. I clutched the sniper rifle, praying it wouldn't be mangled in the upcoming crash.

The 55-ton dropship fell out of the sky, curving gracefully in a final landing approach dictated by emergency autopilot, then, smashed nose-first into the hard, metal ground, sending Forerunner resource crates flying as it screeched along the ground, kicking up sparks, then plunged into the wall, burying its nose almost a metre into the thick silver coating. Inside, Harris cried out when the Pelican made impact, then everything shook as the dropship slid wildly, and suddenly came to an abrupt end when the aircraft slammed into the wall. Everybody was thrown forward and landed in a sprawl of limbs. I was out immediately.

The Anadrin worked quickly, sending bolts of pure electricity through my veins. I jumped upright, nearly hitting Serena in the face as she dosed up Morales. Everybody else was outside, and I heard the sound of human weapons firing and Covenant plasma responding. I muttered an apology as I snatched the SRS Custom and dashed out the open cargo door, immediately wedging three shells into my knuckles and taking aim.

My first shot was past Serena's ear, into the forehead of an Elite about to strike down Cutter with its plasma rifle. As the reptile-like alien toppled over, Cutter jumped away, emptying his MA5 into the next Elite, an Ultra. Behind me, Morales pivoted and fired a tube from his SPNKR into the opening doors, filling the entryway with rubble and stopping the next instalment of troopers from getting out. "Quick! Everyone, through the door!" shouted Grafton. I whipped around, searching for the door that he had mentioned. It was a roughly triangular, giant doorway with green flashing lights.

Grafton stood at the side of the door, desperately fending off a pair of Elites attacking with Carbines. Saotome let an arrow fly, embedding it up to its tail in the first Major's leg. As the wounded animal fell forward, Grafton caught it with the remainder of his clip from his MA5. The other Major attacked from behind, but Grafton hadn't forgotten about him either. The ODST dropped as an energy sword slashed through the air, then dropped to his knees, raising his fists and drove his right metal gauntlet into the Elite's stomach. As soon as the reptile withdrew with a wheeze, Grafton plunged his switchblade through its shields and armour, straight into its gut.

The soldier gave the knife a brutal twist, then withdrew as the Elite gave a strangled gasp and collapsed. "Through the door!" shouted Cutter, waving us through. Harris went first backing into the door, blasting away a Minor trying to cut him down with twin trails of plasma from its rifles with his M90, then spun and retreated inside the door. The squad followed, running backwards while fending off the Elites desperately trying to cut us off. One dived between the opening and Saotome. The girl spun, slicing a gash through the reptile's shoulder blades, issuing blood, while the Elite was thrown towards me. I had my combat knife out and in a combat position, ready to strike. As the reptile rolled over me, I slashed down, cutting through the Elite's chest.

I pushed Morales into the door and ran in myself, turning back as the last member of the squad, Serena dashed through, rolling on the ground as a final blaze of plasma screamed through, ripping the rocky, cold cavern we were in to shreds. Morales turned round as the door closed and fired his remaining rocket into the side of the cave as the door hissed shut. An explosion rippled out, throwing out rubble the size of basketballs in a massive heap next to the door.

We dashed down the corridor as the door again hissed open, and the Elites rushed in-only to stop at the massive wall that Morales had knocked up and begin digging frantically. "Good work! Through the cave!" ushered Cutter, driving us onward. An unlocked door hissed open for us as we ran out, emerging in a massive wintry landscape. "Are we still underground?" asked Morales. I peered through the lens of the rifle. There was definitely a metal roof hanging overhead, barely discernible, but still there. "Appears so." I said, putting the rifle down.

"Cortana. We're out of the Covenant base. I need a location." reported Cutter.

"Affirmative, SMS. Objective is just to your right. Begin your attack."


End file.
